-  -»•*'• 


A   TEXT-BOOK   IN   THE    PRINCIPLES 
OF   EDUCATION 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO 
ATLANTA   •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY   •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


A  TEXT-BOOK 


IN    THE 


PRINCIPLES  OF  EDUCATION 


BY 


ERNEST   NORTON    HENDERSON,   PH.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF   EDUCATION   AND   PHILOSOPHY 
IN  ADELPHI   COLLEGE,   BROOKLYN 


Wefo  fforft 

THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1910 

All  rights  reserved 


•  ' 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 
BY  THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  November,  1910. 


J.  8.  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  <fc  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


I   DEDICATE   THIS   VOLUME 
TO   MY  WIFE 


2056345 


PREFACE 

IN  the  following  pages  I  have  endeavored  to  present  in  a 
systematic  way  the  outlines  of  a  theory  of  education  from  the 
point  of  view  of  evolution.  The  evolutionary  conception  has 
been  applied  to  educational  theory  more  or  less  consistently 
by  all  writers  on  the  subject  since  the  time  of  Froebel.  The 
development  of  more  and  more  scientific  knowledge  in  regard 
to  the  history  of  life,  of  mind,  and  of  society  has,  however, 
made  possible  constant  reconstruction  of  the  general  princi- 
ples, in  terms  of  which  the  process  of  evolution  through  edu- 
cation is  to  be  conceived.  I  have  tried  to  draw  into  a  unified 
scheme  what  seem  to  me  the  essential  features  of  current 
thought  on  this  subject  to-day. 

To  accomplish  this  result  in  anything  like  an  adequate 
manner,  and  at  the  same  time  make  those  practical  applica- 
tions of  principles  which  a  book  on  the  "  Principles  of  Edu- 
cation "  may  be  expected  to  offer,  it  has  been  necessary  to 
give  to  certain  fundamental  conceptions  a  very  condensed 
and,  I  fear,  somewhat  abstract  treatment.  Such  is  especially 
the  case  in  the  chapter  on  "  Conscious  Learning,"  which,  had 
space  been  clearly  available,  I  should  gladly  have  expanded 
by  the  addition  of  more  illustration.  In  the  chapter  on 
"  Readjustment,  its  Meaning,  Conditions,  and  Methods,"  I 
have  given  the  essential  features  of  my  theory  of  evolution. 
To  the  schoolman  interested  primarily  in  practice  this  may 
seem  like  a  somewhat  formidable  introduction  to  so  practical 
a  subject  as  the  Principles  of  Education  should  be.  I  am, 
however,  convinced  that  the  conceptions  there  presented  form 
the  clew  to  at  least  one  fundamental  aspect  of  the  meaning  of 
the  process  of  education,  —  i.e.  its  part  in  the  mechanics  of 


viii  Preface 

evolution.  It  is,  moreover,  upon  these  conceptions  that  the 
later  more  practical  phases  of  the  treatment  turn.  I  hope, 
therefore,  that  the  reader  interested  in  the  "practical"  will 
not  lose  heart  too  soon. 

Since  the  conception  of  evolution  plays  so  important  a 
part  in  the  discussion,  I  have  of  necessity  treated  mind,  con- 
science, and,  indeed,  all  the  higher  powers  of  the  individual 
from  the  "  functional "  or  utilitarian  point  of  view.  I  have, 
however,  tried  to  combine  with  this  an  idealistic  interpreta- 
tion of  the  history  of  life,  both  in  the  individual  and  the  race, 
which  I  trust  will  not  escape  attention  for  lack  of  emphasis. 
I  am  confident  that  in  the  long  run  Idealism  cannot  lose  from 
the  study  of  facts,  and,  while  the  trend  of  thought  and  prac- 
tice in  educational  matters  to-day  may  seem  discouraging  to 
those  who  regard  the  higher  culture  as  too  precious  to  be  put 
to  use,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  a  newer  Idealism  of  service  may 
prove  on  the  whole  a  more  satisfactory  philosophy  than  the 
older  one  that  consisted  so  much  in  withdrawal  from  the 
utilities. 

In  the  hope  that  the  book  may  prove  widely  serviceable  as 
a  text  on  the  principles  of  education,  I  have  added  a  topical 
outline  which  appears  as  marginal  notes.  At  the  end  I  have 
offered  a  teacher's  bibliography,  which  aims  to  give  one  or  a 
few  easily  available  references  on  each  of  the  principal  topics 
discussed  in  the  text. 

The  book  is  itself  the  result  of  the  gradual  evolution  dur- 
ing the  past  ten  years  of  an  attempt  on  my  part  to  treat  the 
principles  of  education  as  an  application  of  a  conception  of 
evolution.  It  began  with  the  endeavor  to  draw  together  three 
significant  biological  facts :  reproduction,  the  helpless  period 
of  infancy,  and  the  lack  of  inheritance,  at  least  to  any  appre- 
ciable degree,  of  acquired  characters.  The  results  of  this  bit 
of  reflection  are  given  in  a  short  paper  entitled  "  Some  Prob- 
lems in  Education  and  Evolution,"  published  in  the  University 


Preface  ix 

of  California  Publications  in  Philosophy,  Vol.  I,  1904.  This 
paper  constitutes  the  foundation  of  the  ideas  developed  in 
the  chapters  on  "  Readjustment,  its  Meaning,  Conditions,  and 
Methods,"  and  "  Education  and  Heredity."  The  material  of 
the  other  chapters  has  been  slowly  brought  into  the  present 
form,  and  it  is  difficult  to  make  acknowledgments  to  the  many 
sources  of  influence  that  have  determined  its  character.  I 
wish,  however,  to  thank  the  students  and  friends  who  during 
these  years  have,  by  their  appreciative  attitude  and  helpful 
criticisms,  done  very  much  toward  making  possible  the  publi- 
cation of  the  book.  Especially  I  acknowledge  my  obligation 
to  Professor  Monroe,  the  editor  of  this  series,  for  many  valu- 
able suggestions  in  putting  my  material  in  its  final  form,  and 
to  my  wife  for  her  assistance  toward  that  same  end. 

ADELPHI  COLLEGE,  BROOKLYN, 
May,  1910. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I 

INTRODUCTION.    VARIOUS  CONCEPTIONS  OF  THE  AIM  OF 
EDUCATION 

SECTION  PAGE 

1 .  The  typical  ideals  of  personal  culture I 

2.  Efficiency  versus  personal  culture  as  the  educational  aim    .         .       16 

PART   I 

EDUCATION  AS  A   FACTOR  IN  ORGANIC  AND   SOCIAL 
EVOLUTION 

CHAPTER   II 
READJUSTMENT,  ITS  MEANING,  CONDITIONS,  AND  METHODS 

3.  Meaning  and  fundamental  conditions  of  readjustment          .         .  27 

4.  Environmental  variability 32 

5.  The  evolution  of  wants 41 

6.  Types  of  readjustment 47 

7.  The  theory  of  infancy 61 

CHAPTER   III 

HEREDITY  AND  EDUCATION 

8.  Differentiation  of  heredity  and  education 72 

9.  Heredity  as  a  basis  for  education 85 

10.  Education  as  supplementing  heredity 96 

11.  Education  as  antagonizing  heredity 99 

CHAPTER   IV 
EDUCATION  AND  SOCIETY 

12.  Early  evolution  of  social  heredity 109 

13.  The  rise  of  the  school .         .116 

14.  Education  and  social  control 124 

zi 


Xll 


PART   II 

THE  PROCESS  OF  EDUCATION  IN   THE  INDIVIDUAL 

CHAPTER   V 
THE  CONDITIONS  OF  INDIVIDUAL  DEVELOPMENT 

SECTION  PACK 

15.  The  problem  of  individual  development 139 

16.  Heredity  and  individual  development 140 

17.  Experimentation  and  selection   .......  144 

18.  Consciousness  and  readjustment          ......  149 

19.  Habit  and  readjustment 152 

CHAPTER   VI 

RECAPITULATION 

20.  Various  theories  of  recapitulation 163 

21.  Psycho-physiological  recapitulation  and  education       .         .         .     169 

22.  Cultural  recapitulation 183 


23.  General  notion  of  learning          .         .        .  .        .        .190 

24.  The  evolution  of  feeling 194 

25.  Perceptual  readjustment 198 

CHAPTER  VIII 
CONSCIOUS  LEARNING 

26.  Factors  in  conscious  learning     .......  209 

27.  The  evolution  of  ideas .  215 

28.  The  evolution  of  judgment 235 

CHAPTER   IX 
THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  REASON 

29.  General  problem  of  educating  the  reason 251 

30.  The  accumulation  of  mental  materials          .....  258 

31.  The  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes 270 


Table  of  Contents  xiii 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  QUESTION  OF  FORMAL  DISCIPLINE 

SECTION  PACK 

32.  The  rise  of  the  conception  of  formal  discipline    ....  283 

33.  Criticism  of  formal  discipline  by  recent  psychology     .         .         .  294 

34.  The  theory  of  formal  discipline  as  an  educational  principle          .  309 

,  CHAPTER  XI 

IMITATION 

35.  The  general  function  of  imitation 318 

36.  Psycho-physiological  mechanism  of  imitation      ....  323 

37.  Psychical  effects  of  imitation 331 

38.  Social  mechanism  of  imitation 341 

39.  Imitation  in  the  history  of  education 351 

CHAPTER  XII 
LANGUAGE 

40.  Oral  language  and  the  development  of  thought  ....  359 

41.  Social  memory  and  written  language 368 

42.  Education  in  language 375 

CHAPTER  XIII 
PLAY 

43.  General  theory  of  play 383 

44.  The  games  of  childhood 388 

45.  The  game  in  the  history  of  education          .....  396 

46.  Play  in  the  education  of  the  future 405 


PART   III 

THE  EDUCATIONAL  AGENCIES 

CHAPTER  XIV 
ANALYSIS  OF  EDUCATIONAL  AGENCIES 

47.  The  educational  institutions 429 

48.  The  educational  materials 434 


xiv  Table  of  Contents 

CHAPTER  XV 
THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SCHOOL 

SECTION  PAGE 

49.  The  differentiation  of  the  school 440 

50.  The  rise  of  academic  freedom 451 

51.  Interdependence  of  the  school  and  society 468 

CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  THE  SCHOOL 

52.  The  examination  conception  of  education 478 

53.  The  function  of  secondary  education 486 

54.  The  school  as  determinative  of  social  heredity    ....     496 

CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  ACADEMIC  AND  THE  PRACTICAL 

55.  The  evolution  of  the  academic 502 

56.  The  reaction  against  the  academic      .         .        .        .        .        .513 

57.  The  ultimate  end  of  education 523 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
LIBERAL  AND  VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION 

58.  The  evolution  of  liberal  education 535 

59.  The  rise  of  vocational  training 540 

60.  The  function  of  education  in  a  democracy 550 

61.  The  ideal  of  education  in  a  democracy 561 


A   TEXT-BOOK   IN   THE    PRINCIPLES 
OF   EDUCATION 


TEXT-BOOK  IN  THE  PRINCIPLES 
OF  EDUCATION 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION  :    VARIOUS    CONCEPTIONS    OF    THE   AIM   OF   EDU- 

CATION 

SECTION  i.     The  typical  ideals  of  personal  culture 

No  one  can  formulate  a  theory  of  education  except  from  the  The  concep- 
standpoint  of  a  conception  of  its  aim.     Even  though  we  em-      p^ess  of 


brace  in  our  treatment  those  phases  of  the  life  of  lower  animals      education 
that  foreshadow  human  education,  our  thinking  will  be  domi-      On  the  con- 
nated  by  the  teleology  manifest  therein.    Education  every-      ^^  of 
where  has  a  function,  and  it  is  upon  one's  view  of  the  nature  of 
this  function  that  not  only  his  conception  of  the  significance 
of  the  entire  process,  but  also  his  analysis  of  its  details,  will 
largely  depend.     It  will,  therefore,  be  practically  necessary  for 
us  to  consider  first  of  all  the  use  in  terms  of  which  education 
can  most  accurately  be  conceived. 

In  general,  the  aims  of  human  education  can  be  grouped  The  two  lead- 
under  two  main  headings:  efficiency  and  personal  culture.      culureTnd 
These  we  commonly  regard  as  the  utilitarian  and  perfection-      practical 
istic  aims,  associated  respectively  with  the  worldliness  or  the 
idealism  of  peoples  or  of  teachers.     They  are  not  utterly 
divorced.     It  would  be,  perhaps,  true  to  say  that   no  age, 
however  persistently  it  pursues  the  ideal  of  personal  culture, 
fails  to  take  account  of  its  uses  ;   for  the  very  devotion  to  this 
aim  which  is  characteristic  of  the  time  makes  it  practically 
certain  that  the  surest  road  to  social  recognition,  and  so  the 


Principles  of  Education 


personal 
culture 


highest  utility,  will  be  found  in  an  apparently  non-utilitarian 
culture  of  the  individual.  Moreover,  there  is  probably  no 
utilitarianism  so  crass  that  it  does  not  find  some  few  activities 
worth  while  for  their  own  sake,  some  few  possessions  that  can 
be  idealized  and  regarded  as  ends  in  themselves. 

Although  it  is  doubtless  impossible  for  any  age  to  free  itself 
entirely  from  utilitarianism  or  idealism,  nevertheless,  it  may 
with  justice  be  said  that  learned  education,  the  education  of 
the  school,  from  the  Middle  Ages  until  the  nineteenth  century, 
The  ideals  of  was  dominated  by  the  conception  of  personal  culture.  This 
ideal  appeared  in  various  forms.  Stating  the  most  important 
of  these  in  their  historic  sequence,  we  have  :  (i)  spiritual 
culture;  (2)  aristocratic,  social,  and  aesthetic  culture  ;  (3)  uni- 
versal knowledge;  (4)  the  perfectly  disciplined  mind  ;  (5)  the 
adequate  self-realization  of  the  individual.  A  study  of  the 
growth  of  these  aims  reveals  an  evolution  in  which  the  factor 
of  utility  plays  a  constantly  increasing  part.  This  fact  and  the 
reasons  for  it  are  sufficiently  important  to  make  it  worth  while 
to  consider  more  carefully  the  specific  nature  of  each  ideal. 

(i)  Spiritual  Culture.  —  During  the  Middle  Ages  the  ideal 
of  learned  education  was  predominantly  religious.  With  the 
development  of  the  Universities,  it  is  true,  the  professions  of 
law  and  medicine  became  provided  for  in  the  educational 
scheme.  Nevertheless,  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  time  was  the  religious  purpose.  The  perfect  life  is 
conceived  to  be  the  life  of  attention  to  purely  spiritual  things. 
Education  is  the  purification  of  the  spirit  from  the  taint  of 
earth.  In  the  words  of  a  leading  scholar  and  thinker,  a  monk 
of  the  twelfth  century,  Hugo  of  St.  Victor  :  — 

Medieval  "The  end  and  purpose  of  all  human  actions  and  pursuits 

ideal  of  which  are  controlled  by  reason  ought  to  be  this,  that  the  integ- 
rity of  our  nature  may  be  restored,  or  the  constraint  of  those 
defects  under  which  our  present  life  lies  be  relieved.  More 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     3 

plainly :  there  are  two  elements  in  man,  good  and  evil,  nature 
and  sin.  The  good,  because  it  partakes  of  the  nature  of  exist- 
ence itself,  because  it  is  corrupted,  because  it  is  deficient,  must 
be  restored  by  training.  The  evil,  because  it  is  sin,  because  it 
is  corruption,  because  it  partakes  of  the  nature  of  non-exist- 
ence, should  be  shut  out,  and  if  it  cannot  be  entirely  exter- 
minated, at  least  it  should  be  controlled  through  the  applica- 
tion of  a  remedy.  .  .  .  The  integrity  of  human  life  should 
be  maintained  by  two  means,  knowledge  and  virtue,  which 
together  constitute  the  sole  thing  in  us  that  is  like  the  super- 
natural and  divine  existences."  1 

This  conception  of  the  purpose  of  life  was  not  original  with  Spiritual  cui- 

the  Middle  Ages,  but  it  was  derived  from  a  long  line  of  devotees,  ardent 

reaching  back  to  the  remote  ascetics  of  the  earliest  civilization.  ideal 
Plato  symbolizes  it  as  :  — 

"The  release  of  the  prisoners  from  chains,  and  their  transla- 
tion from  the  shadows  to  the  images  and  the  light,  and  their 
ascent  from  the  underground  den  to  the  sun  .  .  .  elevating 
the  highest  principle  in  the  soul  to  the  contemplation  of  that 
which  is  best  in  existence."  2 

Such  a  notion  did  not  of  necessity  utterly  disparage  the  in- 
ferior knowledge,  the  aim  of  which  is  health  and  earthly  pros- 
perity. To  Hugo  that  was  a  knowledge  of  "instrumentalities," 
indispensable,  indeed,  but  required  merely  because  of  our 
fallen  state.  The  mediaeval  scholastic  world  did  not  waste  an 
inordinate  amount  of  time  in  the  endeavor  to  master  the  empir- 
ical facts  of  "those  objects  which  have  both  beginning  and  end 
and  are  called  temporal."  3  The  world  beyond  the  gates  of 
monastery  and  cathedral  was  overawed  by  the  majesty  and  the 
mystery  of  the  conception  of  life  illustrated  behind  them.  The 
highest  aspirations  of  the  finest  spirits,  whether  of  priests  or  of 

1  Libri  Didascalici,  Book  VI.  *  Republic,  Book  VII. 

3  Libri  Didascalici,  Ch.  VH. 


4  Principles  of  Education 

laymen,  were  turned  toward  the  eternal  order.  Excommunica- 
tion was  the  direst  of  penalties.  The  recovery  of  the  Holy  Land 
from  the  Infidel  was  the  loftiest  of  enterprises  for  the  warrior, 
who  alone  among  those  [who  were  not  clergymen  possessed  a 
profession  that  could  be  called  noble. 

The  Renais-  (2)  Aristocratic ,  Social,  and  ^Esthetic  Culture.  —  The  Renais- 
thcTreviVai  sance  constitutes  an  attack  upon  the  supremacy  in  learned 
of  worldly  education  of  the  religious  ideal.  Its  characteristic  feature  is 
the  development  among  the  aristocracy  of  an  interest  in  the 
literature  and  culture  of  classical  antiquity,  which  the  revival 
of  learning  had  recently  brought  to  light.  Important  causes 
for  this  interest  were  the  growth  of  wealth,  the  cessation  of 
general  warfare,  the  gradual  evolution  of  elegant  court  life, 
among  the  refined  activities  of  which  poetry  and  letters  played 
a  constantly  increasing  part,  and  in  the  field  of  statecraft  the 
development  of  diplomacy  as  a  partial  substitute  for  general- 
ship. All  these  conditions  tended  to  create  a  society  to  which 
the  humanist  was  most  welcome.  He  brought  artistic  social 
ideals  and  charming  employments  for  leisure.  He  brought 
a  standard  in  linguistic  matters  that  appealed  powerfully  to 
those  who  wished  to  lead  in  the  struggle  where  persuasion  was 
so  rapidly  supplanting  mere  force.  The  new  learning  affected 
the  old  scholastic  world,  it  is  true,  but  far  stronger  was  its 
effect  upon  the  polite  society  which  needed  occupation  for  its 
new-found  leisure.  Hence,  it  may  be  said  that  the  dominant 
purpose  of  that  literary  education  which  was  characteristic 
of  the  Renaissance  was  that  it  should  be  liberal  in  the  ancient 
sense.  It  was  preparation  for  leisure  and  for  leadership.  The 
first  of  these  aims  is  well  brought  out  by  one  of  the  ablest  of 
humanists,  Guarino,  Professor  of  Rhetoric  at  Bologna  and  at 

Renaissance      FeiTara :  — 
ideal  of 

education        "I  would  urge  you  to  consider  the  function  of  letters  as  an 
e  adornment    of   leisure.     Cicero,    as    you    remember,  declares 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     5 

Learning  to  be  the  inspiration  of  youth,  the  delight  of  age, 
the  ornament  of  happy  fortunes,  the  solace  of  adversity.  A 
recreation  in  the  Study,  abroad  it  is  no  hindrance.  In  our 
work,  in  our  leisure,  whether  we  keep  vigil  or  whether  we  court 
sleep,  Letters  are  ever  on  hand  as  our  surest  resource.  Do 
we  seek  refreshment  for  our  minds?  Where  can  we  find  it 
more  happily  than  in  the  pursuit  which  affords  alike  utility 
and  delight?  If  others  seek  recreation  in  dice,  in  ball  play, 
in  the  theater,  do  you  seek  it  in  acquiring  knowledge.  There 
you  will  see  nothing  which  you  may  not  admire  ;  you  will  hear 
nothing  which  you  would  gladly  forget.  ...  A  life  spent 
amidst  such  interests  deserves  the  title  which  the  younger 
Pliny  gives  to  it  —  "the  true,  the  kingly  life";  or  as  Attilius 
was  wont  to  say,  no  leisure  could  be  more  nobly  occupied  than 
that  spent  amongst  books.  Learned  labor,  he  said,  was 
'pleasanter  than  any  pleasures.'  "  1 

Here  then  we  have  the  characteristic  purpose  of  humanistic 
culture.  But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  learning  was  not 
regarded  as  having,  in  addition  to  its  uses  as  an  adornment  of 
leisure,  some  value  for  the  business  of  life.  This  second  aim 
is  brought  out  with  especial  clearness  by  the  eminently  prac- 
tical ^Eneas  Sylvius,  at  one  time  secretary  to  the  Emperor 
Frederick  III,  later  Pope  Pius  II.  In  writing  concerning  the 
education  of  Ladislas,  the  youthful  King  of  Bohemia,  he  says: — • 

"Need  I,  then,  impress  upon  you  the  importance  of  the  Renaissance 
study  of   Philosophy,  and  of  Letters,   without  which  indeed      ideal  °f 
Philosophy  itself  is  barely  intelligible  ?    By  this  twofold  wisdom      forucsata°en_ 
a  Prince  is  trained  to  understand  the  laws  of  God  and  of  man,  by      craft 
it  we  are  all  enlightened  to  see  the  realities  of  the  world  around 
us.     Literature  is  our  guide  to  the  true  meaning  of  the  past, 
to  a  right  estimate  of  the  present,  to  a  sound  forecast  of  the 
future.     Where  letters  cease,  darkness  covers  the  land  ;  and  a 
Prince  who  cannot  read  the  lessons  of  history  is  a  helpless  prey 
of  flattery  and  intrigue."  2 

1  De  Ordine  Docendi  et  Studendi.  *  De  Liberorum  Educaiione. 


Principles  of  Education 


Renaissance 
ideal  of 
education 
for  social 
culture 


The  prince  and  the  statesman  may,  therefore,  find  letters 
the  true  guide  to  an  insight  into  those  laws  of  human  nature 
and  of  society  upon  which  the  craft  of  politics  depends.  Above 
all  they  may  thus  learn  to  know  more  clearly  those  laws  of 
God  by  which  the  conduct  of  states  should  be  controlled. 

The  essay  from  which  this  extract  is  taken  is  largely  devoted 
to  showing  the  value  of  humanities  in  the  art  of  government. 
This  is  not  their  sole  utility.  The  same  laws  of  God  and  man 
that  are  fundamental  for  the  statesman  are  the  basis  of  the 
art  of  social  and  civic  life  for  the  community  in  general,  for 
those  who  are  governed  as  well  as  for  those  who  govern.  This 
further  extension  of  the  practical  value  of  letters  to  include  their 
reaction  on  morals  and  customs  in  society  at  large  is  well  de- 
fended by  the  man  who  is,  perhaps,  the  greatest  of  humanists, 
Erasmus.  Of  him  Professor  Woodward  says  : *  — 

"The  organized  life  of  the  civilized  community  is  to  Erasmus 
the  only  life  worth  living;  his  educational  aim  is  therefore  a 
social  aim.  It  does  not  stop  short  with  the  perfection  of  the 
individual,  the  preparation  of  a  self-contained  life.  When  he 
speaks  of  a  knowledge  of  Christ  and  his  glory  as  totius  eruditionis 
scopus?  he  by  no  means  implies  that  the  end  of  right  training  is 
personal  salvation.  He  has  given  in  De  civilitate  morum  puer- 
ilium  his  description  of  education  in  definite  terms.  'Sicut 
prima  (pars},  ita  prczcipua  est  ut  tenellus  animus  imbibat  pietatis 
seminaria,  proximo,  ut  liberates  disciplinas  et  amet  et  perdiscat, 
tertia  esl,  ut  a  vita  qfficia  instruatur,  quarta  est  ut  a  primis  statim 
cevi  rudimentis  civilitati  morum  adsuescat.' " 3 

To  Erasmus  letters  constituted  one  of  the  vital  elements  in 
this  social  culture  that  would  make  the  recipient  refined, 

1  Erasmus  Concerning  Education.  2  The  extent  of  all  learning. 

"The  first  and  also  the  principal  function  (of  education)  is  that  the  tender 
spirit  may  drink  in  the  seeds  of  piety,  the  next  that  he  may  love  and  learn 
thoroughly  the  liberal  studies,  the  third  is  that  he  may  be  informed  concerning  the 
duties  of  life,  the  fourth  is  that  from  the  earliest  childhood  he  may  be  habituated 
in  courteous  manners." 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     7 

courteous,  conscientious,  and  capable  in  those  political  and 
social  functions  the  existence  of  which  formed  for  the  man  of 
education  of  that  age  his  proper  vocation.  Put  briefly,  the 
conception  is  that  of  learning  as  preparation  for  effectiveness 
in  social  relations,  and  in  this  may  be  found  the  broadest  ideal 
of  the  Renaissance. 

(3)  Universal  Knowledge.  —  In  this  we  have  the  ideal  of  the  Knowledge 
learned  man,  the  philosopher,  scholar,  or  scientist.     Of  all  the      ^ady'uni- 
types  of  the  ideal  of  personal  culture  it  is  most  general,  and,      versai  of 
unless  it  is  expressly  excluded,  most  likely  to  be  found  asso-      of^rsooal 

ciated  with  the  other  forms.     It  is  the  ideal  of  Plato  and  Aris-  C-0111""5 

**• 
totle.     In  a  religious  guise  it  becomes  the  "beatific  vision"  of 

Dante.  We  note  its  presence  in  the  views  of  Hugo  of  St. 
Victor,  already  quoted.  To  him  knowledge  constituted  an 
indispensable  instrumentality  of  salvation,  as  well  as  the  goal 
of  this  process.  In  the  former  capacity  it  concerned  temporal 
affairs,  in  the  latter  it  dealt  with  the  Divine. 

The  ideal  of  universal  knowledge  received  new  life  and  a  new 
form  as  a  result  of  the  learning,  the  philosophy,  and  the  science 
of  the  Renaissance.  The  extent  and  the  possibilities  of  knowl- 
edge of  temporal  matters  were  suddenly  and  enormously 
widened.  Men  plunged  with  passionate  enthusiasm  into  the 
task  of  exploiting  these  new  fields.  The  interest  in  worldly 
knowledge  threatened  to  sweep  away  that  in  the  Divine. 
Indeed,  Divine  Knowledge  came  to  be  regarded  as  after  all 
to  be  sought  in  a  study  of  the  works  of  God  as  manifest  in  na- 
ture and  in  humanity.  Thus  Milton  declares  :  — 

"The  end  then  of  learning  is  to  repair  the  ruins  of  our  first  Renaissance 
parents  by  regaining  to  know  God  aright,  and  out  of  that      and .Refor- 
knowledge  to  love  Him,  to  imitate  Him,  and  to  be  like  Him, 
as  we  may  the  nearest  by  possessing  our  souls  of  true  virtue, 
which  being  united  to  the  heavenly  grace  of  faith  makes  up  the 

i  .    ,  r     ,.•  r>.»  j-  t    • 

mghest  perfection.     But  because  our  understanding  cannot  in 


8  Principles  of  Education 

this  body  found  itself  but  on  sensible  things,  nor  arrive  so  dearly 
at  a  knowledge  of  God  and  things  invisible  as  by  orderly  conning 
over  the  visible  and  inferior  creature,  the  same  method  is  neces- 
sarily to  be  followed  in  all  discreet  teaching.  And  seeing  every 
nation  affords  not  experience  and  tradition  enough  for  all  kinds 
of  learning,  therefore  we  are  chiefly  taught  the  languages  of 
those  people  who  have  at  any  time  been  most  industrious  after 
wisdom;  so  that  language  is  but  the  instrument  conveying 
to  us  things  useful  to  be  known." 

In  a  similar  strain  Comenius  asserts:  — 

Pansophic          "It  is  evident,  then,  that  the  ultimate  end  of  man  is  eternal 

ideal  of      happiness  with  God.     The  subordinate  ends  are  ...  to  be 

(i)  acquainted  with  all  things ;   (2)  endowed  with  power  over 

all  things  and  over  himself;   (3)  to  refer  himself  and  all  things 

to  God,  the  source  of  all."  2 

And  again:  — 

"The  seeds  of  knowledge,  of  virtue,  and  of  piety  are,  as  we 
have  seen,  naturally  implanted  in  us ;  but  the  actual  knowl- 
edge, virtue,  and  piety  are  not  so  given.  These  must  be 
acquired  by  prayer,  by  education,  and  by  action."  3 

The  educational  ideals  of  Milton  and  of  Comenius  and  even 
*  Bacon  may  properly  be  termed  pansophy.  This  word  is  a 
scientific  favorite  one  with  Comenius,  and  it  is  illustrated  in  the  scheme 
°f  textbooks  that  he  planned,  in  the  course  of  instruction  that 
he  would  give,  and  in  the  contents  of  the  schoolbooks  which 
he  wrote.  The  arm  of  education  is  "to  know  all  things." 
No  less  pansophic  is  the  extraordinary  course  of  study  that 
Milton  outlines  for  his  ideal  academy :  and  Bacon,  dreaming 
of  a  quick  reconstruction  of  all  the  sciences  under  the  guidance 
of  his  new  method,  proposed  to  complete  by  his  own  labors 
the  account  of  the  natural  universe  and  to  present  this  to  the 
world  in  a  series  of  works  that  might  properly  constitute  the 

1  Tractate  on  Education.        *  Magna  Didactica,  Ch.  IV.       3  Ibid.,  Ch.  VI. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     9 

foundation  of  the  future  course  of  study  for  all  learned  men. 
The  age  was  encyclopedic.  Largely  unconscious  of  the  possi- 
bilities of  science  and  of  the  true  significance  of  the  new  method, 
it  planned  to  sum  up  earthly  knowledge  as  the  Middle  Ages 
had  striven  to  state  the  science  of  the  Eternal. 

The  pansophic  ideal  of  the  seventeenth  century  cannot  be 
said  to  have  produced  an  immediate  and  profound  reaction 
upon  the  schools.  As  a  positive  proposal  for  a  course  of  study 
it  was  open  to  two  criticisms.  First,  the  new  science  had  not 
as  yet  achieved  enough  to  make  a  strong  plea  for  admission 
to  the  curriculum,  much  less  to  hope  to  dominate  it.  Second, 
the  odds  and  ends  of  knowledge  that  the  devotees  of  realism 
put  into  their  textbooks  1  resulted  in  instruction  that  must 
have  been  almost  as  meaningless  and  as  dry  as  the  memoriz- 
ing of  Latin  grammar  that  it  was  to  replace. 

The  strength  of  pansophy  came  from  its  protest  against  the  Attack  of 
exclusive  devotion   to  linguistic    study,   the  verbalism  into       In^e^ 
which  the  classical  schools  had  degenerated.     The  reformers     guistk  cur- 
succeeded  admirably  in  displaying  the  formalism,  the  artificial- 
ity,  the  uselessness  of  much  of  the  work  of  the  school.     They 
put  humanism  on  the  defensive,  and  paved  the  way  for  more 
rational  methods  of  teaching,  and  for  the  expansion  of  the  cur- 
riculum  as   new   forces   made   this  imperative.     Meanwhile, 
humanism  discovered  a  new  argument  to  justify  its  program, 
and  so  successful  was  this  argument  that  it  put  off  about  two 
centuries  the  day  of  doom  for  the  classical  curriculum.     More- 
over, this  debate  brought  to  the  front  more  clearly  than  ever 
before  the  ideal  of  mental  discipline,  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  ideals  of  personal  culture. 

(4)  Menial  Discipline.  —  The  notion  of  education  for  dis- 
cipline, as  Professor  Monroe  points  out,2  harks  back  to  the 

1  Compare  the  Orbis  Piclus  of  Comenius. 

2  Textbook  in  History  of  Education,  Ch.  IX. 


10 


Principles  of  Education 


Mental  disci-  Middle  Ages,  and  from  thence  to  the  sources  of  the  religious 
piine  as  a  conceptions  at  that  time  dominant.    Historically  it  has  been 

defense    of  .   .  .  . 

the  classi-  associated  with  the  negations  of  asceticism,  of  sen-control,  and 

j£"SS£  of  the  righteous  life.    In  the  eighteenth  century  it  came  into 

ulum          a  new  service.     It  became  the  guard  of  honor  for  a  linguistic 

curriculum  long  outworn,  a  forlorn  hope  to  save  schools  and 

teachers  until  a  new  learning  with  new  uses  might  come  to 

their  reenforcement.    After  all,  say  the  disciplinarians,  it  does 

not  matter  what  we  study  so  long  as  our  faculties  are  trained. 

The  refined  nature,  the  keen  mind,  the  steady  will,  —  these  are 

the  almost  certain  outcome  of  that  excellent  system  of  discipline 

that  has  come  down  from  the  Renaissance. 

Wolf  on  dis-      "This  therefore  is  the  point  of  the  classical  studies:  all- 

dpiinary      round  development  of  all  powers  of  the  soul,  of  the  intellectual 

as  of  the  moral  and  aesthetic,  through  discipline  of  every  kind, 

from  the  most  elementary  to  the  most  advanced  and  difficult."  * 

Thus  Paulsen  sums  up  the  arguments  of  F.  A.  Wolf  (1759- 
1824)  in  defense  of  the  classical  program  in  the  gymnasium. 
The  conception  which  we  here  find  so  clearly  denned  in  the 
eighteenth  century  was  coming  to  the  front  in  the  seventeenth. 
Among  those  who  betray  its  influence  in  the  earlier  period, 
Professor  Monroe  singles  out  John  Locke. 

Locke  on  "The  business  of  education  is  not  to  make  the  young  perfect 

dis-  in  any  one  of  the  sciences,  but  so  to  open  and  dispose  their 

Ac  Me  "of  mmds  as  may  best  make  them  capable  of  any  when  they  shall 

culture        apply  themselves  to  it.  ...     It  is  therefore  to  give  them  this 

freedom  that  I  think  they  should  be  made  to  look  into  all  sorts 

of  knowledge  and  exercise  their  understanding  in  so  wide  a 

variety  of  stock  of  knowledge.     But  I  do  not  propose  it  as  a 

variety  and  stock  of  knowledge,  but  a  variety  and  freedom  of 

thinking ;    as  an  increase  in  the  powers  and  activities  of  the 

mind,  not  as  an  enlargement  of  its  possessions."  2 

1  Geschichte  des  gelehrten  Unterrickts :    Paulsen. 
3  Conduct  of  the  Understanding. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     1 1 

Although  Locke  thus  clearly  conceived  the  idea  of  mental  Locke  not 
discipline,  he  does  not  use  it  to  support  the  narrow  classical 
curriculum,  but  rather  in  defense  of  a  broad  and  varied  one. 
Stated  in  this  form,  the  disciplinary  idea  is  unquestionably 
capable  of  a  strong  defense,  a  defense  that  will  be  considered  in 
detail  later.1  That  Locke  was  not  a  narrow  disciplinarian  may 
further  be  seen  from  his  rejection  of  the  common  notion  that 
mere  strength  of  memory  can  be  increased  by  training. 

"I  hear  it  said,  that  children  should  be  employed  in  getting 
things  by  heart,  to  exercise  and  improve  their  memories.  I 
could  wish  this  were  said  with  as  much  authority  of  reason, 
as  it  is  with  forwardness  of  assurance,  and  that  this  practice 
were  established  upon  good  observation  more  than  old  custom. 
For  it  is  evident  that  strength  of  memory  is  owing  to  an  happy 
constitution,  and  not  to  any  habitual  improvement  got  by 
exercise."  2 

Here  Locke  is  especially  attacking  the  prevalent  defense  of 
the  custom  of  "learning  pages  of  Latin  by  heart,"  which  he 
declares  "no  more  fits  the  memory  for  retention  of  anything 
else  than  the  graving  of  one  sentence  in  lead  makes  it  the  more 
capable  of  retaining  firmly  any  other  characters." 

Thus  his  statements  furnish  us  with  an  account,  on  the  one 
hand,  of  the  narrow  disciplinary  view,  at  any  rate  so  far  as  this 
is  embraced  in  the  discipline  of  the  memory,  and,  on  the  other, 
of  a  broad  view,  which,  although  it  ran  counter  to  the  prevail- 
ing practices  in  the  classical  schools,  was  nevertheless  a  notion 
of  mental  discipline. 

Unfortunately  for  the  progress  of  the  schools  it  was  the  nar-  Prevalence  of 
row  rather  than  the  broad  conception  of  mental  discipline  that  rather  than 
came  to  prevail  during  the  next  two  centuries.  As  the  end  of  the  bro?d 

,  .  ,  ,.  ..,.•,  ideal  of  dis- 

education  was  thought  to  be  the  training  of  the  powers,  so      cipiine    in 
the  ideal  curriculum  was  thought  to  be,  not  one  rich  in  a  variety      ^  schools 

1  Compare  Ch.  X.  2  Thoughts  on  Education,  §  176. 


12  Principles  of  Education 

of  content,  but  rather  one  bare  of  all  material  that  through  its 
inherent  interest  would  distract  the  mind  from  attention  to 
the  mere  process  of  learning.  Such  severe  training  was  re- 
garded as  the  one  thing  needful.  A  man  educated  by  such 
methods  had  no  need  of  a  memory  crammed  with  this  or  that 
bit  of  knowledge,  nor  would  he  be  embarrassed  by  the  lack  of 
this  or  that  mechanic  art  or  professional  device.  Not  the  facts, 
but  the  ability  to  find  them  surely  and  quickly ;  not  rules  of 
thumb,  but  the  intelligence  to  learn,  improve,  or  invent  these  as 
circumstances  may  make  wise ;  such  powers  are  the  basis  of 
the  highest  efficiency,  and  they  are  the  goal  of  standard  edu- 
cation. So  reasons  the  disciplinarian,  and  the  argument 
seems  fascinating,  plausible.  No  doubt  in  part  it  is  true. 

But  in  practice  it  has  one  great  tactical  weakness.  It  can 
be  used  to  defend  almost  any  curriculum.  It  saved  the  school- 
master while  he  remained  exclusively  a  classicist.  When, 
however,  new  subjects  came  one  by  one  knocking  at  the  gate 
of  the  temple  of  learning,  it  was  futile  to  deny  them  admission 
on  the  ground  that  the  old  subjects  furnished  such  valuable 
discipline.  This  merit  must  be  ascribed  to  any  study  properly 
done. 

Seif-reaiiza-  (5)  Sdf-realization.  —  The  Enlightenment  of  the  eighteenth 
ideaUf  the  century  brought  with  it  a  new  realization  of  the  importance  of 
Enlighten-  individuality.  Whether  as  a  revolution  against  the  formalism, 
the  artificiality,  and  the  tyranny  of  social  conventions,  litera- 
ture, religion,  government,  and  education  during  the  preceding 
absolutistic  age,  or  as  an  attempt  at  a  reconstruction  of  these 
phases  of  human  activity  on  sound  and  stable  foundations,  it 
is  the  rights  of  man,  the  sacredness  of  personality,  that  are 
everywhere  emphasized.  In  consequence,  the  age  formulated 
more  clearly  than  had  ever  been  done  before  the  ethical  and 
educational  ideal  of  self-realization. 

The  revolutionary  phase  of  this  ideal  is  illustrated  in  the 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     13 

conception  of  negative  education  entertained  by  Rousseau. 
Education,  he  thinks,  like  government,  should  "let  alone." 
The  best  government  is  that  which  imposes  least  restraint; 
the  best  education  is  self-education.  This  proposition  is  based 
on  the  idea  that  the  child  has  within  him  all  that  is  necessary 
to  insure  the  most  fitting  destiny,  and  that  his  growth  toward 
this  goal  is  warped  or  stunted  by  positive  education. 

"Everything  is  good  as  it  came  from  the  author  of  nature ;  Rousseau 
everything  degenerates  in  the  hands  of  man.  All  that      on  natura' 

,  .    ,  .   . ,  j       i  •  i  •  i  self-devel- 

we  have  not  at  birth,  and  which  we  require  when  grown  up,  opment 
is  bestowed  on  us  by  education.  This  education  we  receive 
from  nature,  from  men,  or  from  things.  The  internal  develop- 
ment of  our  organs  and  faculties  is  the  education  of  nature  ; 
the  use  we  are  taught  to  make  of  the  development  is  the  edu- 
cation given  us  by  men  ;  and  in  the  acquisitions  made  by  our 
own  experience  in  regard  to  the  objects  that  surround  us  con- 
sists our  education  from  things.  .  .  .  Since  the  concurrence 
of  these  three  kinds  of  education  is  necessary,  it  is  by  that  one 
•which  is  entirely  independent  of  us  that  we  must  regulate  the  two 
others."  1 

Education  should  therefore,  Rousseau  believes,  be  "accord- 
ing to  Nature."  It  should  aim  simply  to  insure  the  free 
development  of  those  potentialities  with  which  nature  has 
endowed  the  child.  In  this  conception  Pestalozzi  and  Froebel 
were  followers  of  Rousseau.  Thus  Pestalozzi  asserts  :  — 

"All  the  pure  and  beneficent  powers  of  humanity  are  neither  Pestalozzi 
the  products  of  art  nor  the  results  of  chance.    They  are  really      andFroe- 
a  natural  possession  of  every  man."  2  realization' 

"If  we  desire  to  aid  the  poor  man,  the  very  lowest  among 
the  people,  this  can  be  done  in  one  way  only,  that  is  by  chang- 
ing his  schools  into  true  places  of  education,  in  which  the  moral, 
intellectual,  and  physical  powers  which  God  has  put  into  our 
nature  may  be  drawn  out.1' 3 

1  Emile,  Book  I.  *  Evening  Hours  of  a  Hermit,  No.  8. 

1  Quoted  by  Morf,  Part  i,  p.  an. 


14  Principles  of  Education 

In  the  same  strain  Froebel  declares  :  — 

"By  education,  then,  the  divine  essence  of  man  should  be 
unfolded,  brought  out,  lifted  into  consciousness,  and  man 
himself  raised  into  free  conscious  obedience  to  the  divine  prin- 
ciple that  lives  in  him  and  to  a  free  representation  of  this  prin- 
ciple in  his  life."  1 

Emphasis  on  But  the  Swiss  and  the  German  were  not  merely  negative 
LstnictLm  an(^  revolutionary  in  their  notion  of  the  aim  and  process  of 
for  seif-de-  education.  To  each  the  course  of  self-realization  was  one  that 

velopment,  ,  .  . 

especially  required  the  constant  support  and  supervision  of  the  teacher 
by  Herbart  jes|.  jt  gO  wrong.  The  importance  of  this  process  of  instruction 
is  so  much  emphasized  by  Herbart  that  one  is  likely  to  lose 
sight  of  the  fact  that  he  too  may  be  called  a  believer  in  the  ideal 
of  self-realization.  Nevertheless,  we  cannot  characterize  his 
views  otherwise. 

"We  call  the  first  part  of  the  educational  aim,  many-sidedness 
of  interest,  which  must  be  distinguished  from  its  exaggeration  — 
dabbling  in  many  things."  This  must  be  "proportionate  many- 
sidedness.  We  shall  thus  get  the  meaning  of  the  common 
expression  'harmonious  cultivation  of  all  the  powers.' " 2 

This  many-sidedness,  according  to  Herbart,  finds  its  function 
in  furnishing  the  material  in  thought  and  feeling  upon  which 
moral  strength  of  character  may  be  founded. 

"Thus  it  is  not  a  certain  number  of  separate  aims  that  hover 
before  us  now,  .^  .  .  but  chiefly  the  activity  of  the  growing 
man  —  the  totality  of  his  inward  unconditioned  vitality  and 
susceptibility.  The  greater  this  totality  —  the  fuller,  more 
expanded  and  harmonious  —  the  greater  is  the  perfection, 
and  the  greater  the  promise  of  the  realization  of  our  good 
will." 3 

1  Education  of  Man,  §  5.  »  Science  of  Education,  Book  I,  Ch.  II,  II. 

3  Ibid. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     15 

Thus  the  Herbartian  conception  is  that  of  feeding  all  the 
interests  that  are  innate  in  the  individual,  so  that  when  fully 
expanded,  or  when,  in  other  words,  the  circle  of  thought  is 
complete,  the  will  may  be  free  and  righteous.  Here  we  have 
the  ideal  of  perfection,  and  of  perfection  through  what  is  in 
effect  self-realization,  although  the  realism  of  Herbart  leads 
him  to  dwell  rather  more  upon  the  instruction  of  the  teacher 
than  upon  the  self-activity  of  the  pupil. 

In  the  idea  of  self-realization  the  conception  of  personal 
culture  receives  its  most  philosophic,  its  most  inclusive  state- 
ment. The  " harmonious  development  of  all  the  powers"  ization 
constitutes  a  formula  that  covers  spiritual  culture,  social  and 
aesthetic  culture,  knowledge,  and  discipline.  These  powers 
may  be  conceived  as  the  faculties  of  the  disciplinarian,  the 
interests  of  Herbart,  or  the  instincts  of  modern  psychology. 
We  may  with  the  evolutionist  look  upon  their  development 
as  the  budding  forth  in  the  individual  of  the  inheritance  which 
we  draw  from  the  countless  ages  of  the  history  of  life  ;  or  after 
the  fashion  of  the  idealists,  Fichte  and  Hegel,  we  may  regard 
this  process  as  the  revelation  of  mind  to  itself. 

These  considerations  suggest  that  our  formula  is  so  compre-  Conception 
hensive  as  to  be  meaningless.     But  if  it  constitutes  a  summary     ka^on^n 
of  all  the  ideals  of  personal  culture,  it  can  be  no  more  devoid      need  of 
of  definition  than  the  factors  of  which  it  is  composed.     Indeed,      definition 
one  may,  if  he  choose,  show  that  the  endeavor  to  define  each 
of  these  ideals  is  likely  to  involve  ultimately  all  the  others. 
Spiritual  culture  finds  the  virtues  it  inculcates  largely  by  noting 
the  needs  of  society.     Universal  knowledge  is  an  aim  both  of 
spiritual  culture  and  of  education  for  leisure.     Mental  disci- 
pline includes  spiritual  discipline,  and,  like  it,  gets  meaning 
from  the  social,  artistic,  and  intellectual  uses  to  which  it  can 
be  put.     Thus  we  may  suspect  that,  if  self-realization  is  an 
indefinite  ideal,  its  vagueness  arises  from  an  inherent  quality 


jg  Principles  of  Education 

in  all  ideals  of  personal  culture.  This  point  becomes  more 
clear  when  we  compare  this  educational  aim  with  its  antithesis, 
the  aim  of  efficiency. 

SECTION  2.    Efficiency  versus  personal  culture  as  the  educa- 
tional aim 

Method  of  de-  Any  one  who  conceives  the  ideal  of  education  to  be  personal 
the™  mean-  culture  is  compelled  to  look  within  the  individual  to  find  that 
ing  d)  of  which  constitutes  the  objective  point  of  all  training.  Thus 
Sre!  some  form  of  psychological  analysis  of  the  personality  must  be 
invoked.  We  look  within,  and  find  a  soul  longing  for  perfection 
of  some  sort,  —  for  an  eternal  reign  of  righteousness  to  satisfy 
its  ethical  cravings,  for  universal  knowledge  to  meet  its  intel- 
lectual powers  and  aspirations,  for  beauty  and  social  elegance 
to  please  its  taste,  —  and  in  these  somewhat  abstract  objects 
toward  which  the  elemental  human  functions  direct  themselves 
we  find  the  goal  of  education.  Or,  perhaps,  looking  still  further 
within,  we  find  in  the  cultivation  of  the  functions  themselves 
without  reference  to  results  a  more  fundamental  educational 
aim.  Mental  discipline  or  self-realization,  processes  which 
derive  their  content  wholly  from  an  analysis  of  the  nature 
of  the  individual,  are  fixed  upon  as  the  essence  of  education. 
One  is  led  to  think  that  the  schoolmaster  is  not  concerned 
with  satisfying  human  cravings,  but  rather  with  nourishing 
these  and  training  their  power  to  feed  themselves. 
(a)  of  effi-  On  the  other  hand,  the  ideal  of  efficiency  directs  the  atten- 
tion not  within,  but  outward  to  the  environment,  to  the  condi- 
tions of  life.  Assuming'  human  nature  to  be  what  it  is,  the 
utilitarian  considers  the  problem  of  training  it  to  do  in  the 
life  situations  in  which  it  finds  itself  the  things  that  are  felt 
to  be  worth  while.  The  question  is  not  what  powers  does  the 
individual  possess,  but  rather  what  powers  wiU  he  need? 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     17 


Psychology 
as  deter- 
minative 
of    the 
means   of 
education  ; 
the    condi- 
tions of 
life   as  de- 
termining 
its  end 


Psychological  analysis  from  this  point  of  view  finds  its  use  as  a 
method  of  arriving  at  a  knowledge  of  the  means  of  education 
rather  than  of  its  ends.  To  teach  a  child,  one  must  know 
what  and  how  this  child  can  learn.  But  to  determine  the  ends 
of  education,  we  must  discover  by  objective  analysis  the  nature 
of  the  circumstances  with  which  the  cultured  man  will  have  to 
cope.  He  will  need  certain  virtues  to  get  on  satisfactorily  in 
society,  and  certain  social  accomplishments  not  only  to  enjoy 
himself  therein,  but  also  to  command  social  influence,  —  that 
most  important  of  all  instrumentalities  for  effective  living. 
As  for  knowledge,  he  should  have  only  what  he  can  use,  and 
if  that  be  too  much  for  him  to  learn,  then  the  school  should 
teach  him  that  which  he  is  likely  to  find  of  the  greatest  use. 
The  question  of  whether  the  child  is  realizing  the  potentialities 
of  his  nature  is  unimportant.  The  vital  consideration  is 
whether  he  is  learning  to  do  those  things  which  will  make  him 
as  an  adult  one  who  in  the  judgment  of  the  world  is  an  efficient 
man  and  citizen. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  and  best  known  formulations  of 
the  aim  of  efficiency  is  that  of  Herbert  Spencer.  Education, 
he  thinks,  is  for  "complete  living,"  which  includes 

"Not  how  to  live  in  the  mere  material  sense  only,  but  in  the  Spencer  on 
widest  sense.     The  general  problem  which  comprehends  every      the  details 
special  problem  is  —  the  right  ruling  of  conduct  in  all  direc- 
tions under  all  circumstances.     In  what  way  to  treat  the  body  ; 
in  what  way  to  treat  the  mind ;   in  what  way  to  manage  our 
affairs ;   in  what  way  to  bring  up  a  family ;   in  what  way  to 
behave  as  a  citizen ;   in  what  way  to  utilize  all  those  sources 
of  happiness  which  nature  supplies  ?  "  l 

All  this  we  may  sum  up  in  that  favorite  phrase  of  the  evo- 
lutionist "adaptation  to  environment."  By  environment  is 
here  meant  not  merely  that  of  physical  nature,  but  also  that  of 

1  Education,  Ch.  I. 
c 


of  complete 
living 


1 8  Principles  of  Education 

civilization  into  which  nature  has  so  largely  been  transformed. 
Thus  President  Butler  declares  :  — 

Butler  on  the       "The  entire  educational  period  after  the  physical  adjust- 
factors  of  a     ment  has  been  made,  after  the  child  can  walk  alone,  can  feed 
justment  *to  itself,  can  use  its  hands,  and  has  therefore  acquired  physical 
life  of  to-day  and  bodily  independence,  is  an  adjustment  to  what  may  be 
called  our    spiritual    environment.     Thus   education  means 
a   gradual  adjustment  to  the  spiritual  possessions  of  the  race. 
Those  possessions  may  be  variously  classified,  but  they  cer- 
tainly are  at  least  fivefold.     The  child  is  entitled  to  his  scien- 
tific inheritance,  to  his  literary  inheritance,  to  his  aesthetic 
inheritance,  to  his  institutional  inheritance,  and  to  his  religious 
inheritance.    Without  them  he  cannot  become  a  truly  edu- 
cated or  a  cultivated  man."  * 

We  must  be  adjusted  to  this  spiritual,  this  social  environ- 
ment in  order  to  succeed,  to  be  efficient.  To  find  what  edu- 
cation should  aim  to  do  we  must  study  the  specific  problems 
that  time,  place,  and  circumstance  will  bring  to  confront  the 
graduates  of  our  schools.  Each  type  of  school  will  have  a 
special  task,  if,  indeed,  the  classification  of  its  pupils  does  not 
reveal  several  tasks  that  are  quite  distinct.  The  teachers  must 
study  the  natures  of  their  pupils,  not  primarily  to  find  out 
what  there  is  to  be  brought  to  realization,  but  rather  to  dis- 
cover to  what  uses  they  can  be  put.  Psychological  analysis 
reveals  a  mass  of  raw  material  in  the  way  of  instincts,  powers, 
tastes,  and  it  is  the  first  problem  of  the  schoolmaster  to  deter- 
mine what  of  this  crude  ore  it  will  pay  to  work, 
utility  of  the  In  discussing  the  relation  of  these  two  ideals,  efficiency  and 

education  ,         ,^  _       .  , 

for  personal  personal  culture,  I  wish  at  this  time  to  emphasize  two  points. 
The  first  of  these  has  already  been  mentioned.  It  is  that, 
although  in  different  ages  the  school  may  emphasize  now  the 
one,  now  the  other  educational  aim,  nevertheless,  neither  is 

1  The  Meaning  of  Education. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     19 

ever  wholly  neglected.  All  the  forms  of  personal  culture  have 
fostered  efficiency.  The  practical  service  of  the  ideal  of  spirit- 
ual culture  in  the  social  evolution  of  man  was  unquestionably 
enormous.  Even  the  asceticism  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  a 
tremendous  effect  in  exalting  the  standards  of  value  in  worldly 
conduct.  The  constant  presence  in  those  rude  ages  of  the 
spectacle  of  cowl  of  monk  and  spire  of  cathedral  kept  the  mind 
infused  with  the  sense  of  the  eternity  that  they  symbolized. 
In  stirring  intellectual  aspiration,  heroic  devotion  to  truth, 
justice,  and  charity,  in  promoting  peace  and  good  will,  this 
consciousness  worked  to  prepare  not  merely  for  eternity  but 
also  for  civilization.  The  educational  ideal  of  the  Renaissance, 
aiming  to  train  for  leadership  in  statecraft  and  especially  in 
diplomacy  through  literary  and  philosophic  culture,  was 
explicitly  utilitarian.  Bacon,  who  may  be  called  the  leading 
inspirer  of  the  pansophic  ideal,  dreamed  of  a  reconstruction 
of  the  conditions  of  life  through  the  discoveries  of  the  new 
science. 

"Now  the  true  and  lawful  goal  of  the  sciences  is  none  other  Bacon  on 
than  this :   that  human  life  be  endowed  with  new  discoveries      scientific 
and  powers.     But  of  this  the  great  majority  have  no  feeling, 
but  are  merely  hireling  and  professional ;  except  when  it  occa-      of  recon- 
sionally  happens  that  some  workman  of  acuter  wit  and  covetous      stmcting 
of  honor  applies  himself  to  a  new  invention  ;  which  he  mostly      ^  ar 
does  at  the  expense  of  his  fortunes.     But,  in  general,  so  far  are 
men  from  proposing  to  themselves  to  augment  the  mass  of 
arts  and  sciences  that  from  the  mass  already  at  hand  they 
neither  take  nor  look  for  anything  more  than  they  can  turn  to 
use  in  their  lectures,  or  to  gain,  or  to  reputation,  or  to  some 
similar  advantage."  * 

The  possibilities  of  human  intelligence,  when  once  it  turns 
itself   resolutely  to   the   task   of   endowing  human  life  with 

1  Novum  Organum,  Book  I,  Aphorism  LXXXI. 


2o  Principles  of  Education 

"new  discoveries  and  powers,"  are  partially  foreshadowed  in 
the  dream  of  "Saloman's  House"  or  the  "College  of  the  Six 
Days'  Work,"  of  which  he  says  :  — 

"The  end  of  our  Foundation  is  the  knowledge  of  Causes 
and  secret  motions  of  things  and  the  enlargement  of  the  bounds 
of  Human  Empire,  to  the  effecting  of  all  things  possible."  1 

It  is  true  that  the  pansophic  ideal  could  hardly  be  said  either 
in  the  school  or  in  life  to  have  been  interpenetrated  with  the 
utilitarian  spirit  until  in  the  last  century.  Herein  lies,  perhaps, 
the  reason  for  its  failure  to  influence  more  widely  the  curricu- 
lum. Realism  had  to  show  its  uses  before  it  could  shake  the 
reign  of  the  classics,  for  these  had  been  useful,  and  even  after 
their  specific  use  came  to  be  doubtful,  the  argument  from  their 
disciplinary  value  was  a  distinct  endeavor  to  save  them 
because  of  the  higher  utility  thus  attributed  to  them.  It 
follows  that  mental  discipline  aims  in  reality  at  efficiency, 
somewhat  vaguely  conceived.  The  ideal  of  self-realization 
however,  seems  to  be  without  mitigation  individualistic  and 
perfectionistic.  But  it  is  to  be  noted  that  with  Rousseau,  and 
especially  with  Pestalozzi,  it  included  the  ability  to  make  one's 
livelihood  through  a  vocation  rather  closely  in  contact  with 
Nature.  So,  too,  Froebel,  idealist  though  he  was,  found  in  the 
vocation  a  symbol  of  the  divine  activity  which  education 
should  foster. 

Personal  oil-  It  may  be  asked  why,  if  these  ideals  all  have  their  utilitarian 
dudesmbut  s^e>  the*r  reaction  upon  practical  life,  do  we  speak  of  them  as 
fails  to  ideals  of  personal  culture  rather  than  of  efficiency.  The  answer 

emphasize  ,         .     . 

efficiency  is  that  it  is  largely  a  matter  of  emphasis.  In  the  past  we  have 
been  thinking  of  personal  culture  as  an  end  in  itself.  Effi- 
ciency was  not  utterly  neglected,  but  it  was  overshadowed 
by  idealism.  Similarly,  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  utilitarian- 

1  Nova  Atlantis. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     21 

ism  of  to-day  means  a  total  abandonment  of  idealism.  It  is 
merely  a  question  of  emphasis,  and  from  the  standpoint  of 
general  progress  we  may  suspect  that  this  shifting  of  attention 
has  been  on  the  whole  a  symptom  of  health.  By  this  I  mean 
no  defense  of  utilitarianism  as  an  ultimate  philosophy  of  life, 
but  rather  an  insistence  on  the  place  and  service  of  the  practical 
attitude  in  relation  to  human  progress. 

The   tentative   definition   of   that   service   constitutes   the  Function  of 
second  point  which  I  wish  to  make  in  criticism  of  the  relation 


of  the  ideals  of  personal  culture  and  of  efficiency.     Put  briefly,      dencv  ^ 

.  .  /•  •  rr         selective 

we  may  say  that  the  essential  junction  of  the  conception  of  effi- 
ciency is  to  serve  as  a  criterion  to  determine  among  rival  courses 
of  study  and  methods  of  teaching  those  which  should  prevail. 
The  ideals  of  personal  culture  furnish  us  no  such  criteria. 
One  of  the  most  effective  expressions  of  this  fact  is  that  of 
Professor  Dewey. 

"It  is  said  the  end  of  education  may  be  stated  in  purely  Dewey's  crit- 

individual  terms.     For  example,  it  is  said  to  be  the  harmonious  ttuTiack  of 

development  of  all  the  powers  of  the  individual.    Here  we  have  meaning  in 

no  apparent  reference  to  social  life  or  membership,  and  yet  it  the  idea 

is  argued  we  have  an  adequate  and  thoroughgoing  definition  harmom- 

of  what  the  goal  of  education  is.     But  if  this  definition  is  taken  °pment  of 

independently  of  social  relationship,  we  shall  find  that  we  have  all  the 

no  standard  or  criterion  for  telling  what  is  meant  by  any  one  P°wers" 
of  the  terms  concerned.     We  do  not  know  what  a  power  is  ;  we 
do  not  know  what  development  is  ;  we  do  not  know  what  har- 
mony is  ;  a  power  is  a  power  with  reference  to  the  use  to  which 
it  is  put,  the  function  it  has  to  serve."  1 

The  positive  conclusion  to  which  this  criticism  forces  us  is 
that  we  cannot  determine  the  end  of  education  except  by  a 
consideration  of  the  social  life  for  an  entrance  to  which  it 
constitutes  the  preparation.  To  use  Professor  Dewey's  illus- 

1  Ethical  Principles  underlying  Education. 


22 


Principles  of  Education 


All   ideals   of 
personal 
culture 
need  defi- 
nition 
through 
use 


tration,  as  a  manufacturer's  aim  is  to  supply  a  demand  which 
he  discovers  from  a  study  of  what  people  like  and  need,  so  the 
teacher's  work  should  be  determined  by  a  consideration  of 
what  society  as  a  whole  requires  of  those  who  succeed.  Edu- 
cation should  aim  at  adaptation  to  environment. 

When  we  endeavor  to  put  content  into  any  of  the  ideals  of 
personal  culture,  we  find  the  same  difficulty  as  with  the  ideal 
of  self-realization.  What  is  spiritual  culture?  What  educa- 
tion prepares  for  eternity?  We  know  so  little  about  that 
career  of  immortality  that  we  are  compelled  to  decide  in  favor 
of  that  which  demonstrates  its  value  for  life  here,  and  it  is 
evident  that  those  spiritual  excellences  that  have  survived  as 
permanent  aims  for  the  culture  of  to-day  are  such  as  have 
proved  their  efficacy  in  fostering  our  civilization.  Asceticism 
remains  as  long  as  extreme  examples  of  disregard  for  worldly 
success  are  necessary  to  progress  in  general  worldly  prosperity. 
It  tends  to  disappear  just  in  so  far  as  it  becomes  useless. 
Social  and  aesthetic  culture  have  no  means  of  determining  what 
fashions  and  manners  or  what  artistic  cults  should  be  en- 
couraged in  education  except  as  these  contribute  to  the  general 
effectiveness  of  social  life,  or,  in  other  words,  furnish  the 
adaptation  to  a  social  order  that  proves  through  persistent 
survival  its  title  to  permanence.  The  absurdity  of  the  pan- 
sophic  scheme  of  education,  when  faced  with  the  almost  infinite 
variety  of  knowledge  that  research  has  to-day  accumulated,  is 
so  evident  that  the  need  of  a  criterion  to  winnow  out  the 
small  fraction  of  the  known  that  should  be  taught  goes  without 
question.  Again,  we  have  seen  how  mental  discipline,  since  it 
can  be  obtained  equally  well  from  any  subject,  provided  this 
be  studied  properly,  leaves  us  to  study  what  we  choose,  or 
what  the  schoolmaster  prefers  that  we  choose. 

Now  an  aim  of  education  that  does  not  tell  us  what  the 
content  of  education  should  be  is  manifestly  inadequate. 


Various  Conceptions  of  the  Aim  of  Education     23 


of  the  aim 
of    effi- 
ciency to 
determine 
the  ends 
which 
utility 
should 
serve 


The  ideals  of  personal  culture  leave  the  schoolmaster  to  lead 
his  pupil  whither  he  will,  through  this  desert  of  famine  or  that 
meadow  of  sport,  and  on  the  way  he  may  gather  flowers  or 
pebbles  or  dust  and  ashes.  There  is  no  ultimate  goal  the 
arrival  at  which  is  the  evidence  that  the  route  has  been  properly 
chosen  and  the  genuine  treasures  of  the  wayside  discovered 
and  garnered. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  test  of  efficiency  when  taken  alone  is  inadequacy 
equally  inadequate  to  determine  the  content  of  education. 
The  explication  and  defense  of  this  view  will  for  the  most  part 
be  left  until  the  outlines  of  the  theory  of  education  that  it  is 
intended  to  present  are  all  sketched  in,  but  we  may  here  note 
that  whatever  is  useful  is  useful  for  something.  Hence,  in  the 
final  good  things,  when  once  they  have  been  discovered,  must  lie 
the  ultimate  value  of  all  our  utilities.  It  follows  that,  while 
Professor  Dewey's  criticism  of  the  ideal  of  self-realization  is 
sound,  the  implication  that  it  conveys  as  to  the  adequacy  of 
the  idea  of  adjustment  in  determining  the  definite  character 
of  the  content  of  education  is  in  need  of  amendment,  or  at 
least  of  supplementary  explanation.  He  finds  the  aim  of  edu- 
cation in  adjustment  to  social  conditions.  It  is  so  largely 
because  these  social  conditions  are  embodiments  of  the  ap- 
proved methods  of  meeting  the  wants  of  the  individual.  It  is 
my  conviction  that  these  wants  can  be  traced  to  no  other  source 
than  the  nature  of  the  individual  who  feels  them. 

In  the  succeeding  pages  an  attempt  will  be  made  to  develop 
and  defend  this  view.  It  will  suffice  here  to  recall  our  prelim- 
inary statement  of  the  function  of  the  ideal  of  utility.  It 
serves  as  a  criterion  to  determine  among  rival  courses  of  study 
and  methods  of  teaching  those  that  should  prevail.  It  does 
not  answer  the  question  what,  but  rather  the  question  which. 
We  must  have  alternatives  before  we  can  apply  it.  It  does 
not  create  the  content  of  education,  nor  the  ends  of  life,  but 


24  Principles  of  Education 

rather  selects  the  one  to  fit  the  other.  Like  the  clearing  house 
it  produces  no  values,  but  serves  the  indispensable  purpose  of 
adjusting  the  values  that  exist. 

Education  a      The  modern  tendency  is  to  approach  the  discussion  of  the 
evolution     theory  of  education  from  the  point  of  view  of  adjustment, 
since  it       This  formula  can,  moreover,  be  made  to  involve  all  the  issues 
justment  "  that  our  theory  should  embrace.    Hence,  we  can  do  no  better 
than  be  both  modern  and  comprehensive  by  denning  educa- 
tion in  terms  of  adjustment,  and  proceeding  to  develop  the 
implications  of  our  definition.     Since  our  formula  is  essen- 
tially one  of  evolutionary  theory,  we  are  naturally  faced  at 
once  with  the  problem  of  the  part  of  education  in  organic  and 
social  evolution.     In  this  analysis  we  should  discover  the  prin- 
ciples that  underlie  the  nature  of  the  process  of  education  in 
the  individual  and  the  character  of  the  educational  agencies. 


PART   I 

EDUCATION  AS  A  FACTOR  IN  ORGANIC  AND  SOCIAL 
EVOLUTION 


CHAPTER  II 

READJUSTMENT:   ITS  MEANING,  CONDITIONS,  AND  METHODS 

SECTION  3.   Meaning  and  fundamental  conditions  of 
readjustment 

WE  have  agreed  to  characterize  the  aim  of  education  as  Education  as 
efficiency,  as  adjustment.  The  process  of  education  will  ment"5 
therefore  be  that  by  means  of  which  the  individual  is  brought 
into  adaptation  to  his  environment  or  readjusted.  This 
statement  is,  indeed,  merely  a  formula,  and  it  may  sound  at 
first  like  a  barren  one.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that 
the  reasons  that  force  its  selection  are  drawn  from  the  fact  that 
it  enables  us  to  decide  upon  the  content  of  education.  Hence, 
however  abstract  it  may  seem,  it  is  nevertheless  indispensable, 
and  an  analysis  of  its  meaning  and  implications  in  connection 
with  life,  whether  individual  or  social,  becomes  in  point. 

Let  us  assume  that  this  investigation  should  begin  with  a  Readjust- 
study  of  the  process  of  readjustment  in  its  lowest  terms,      ^versai 
Evidently  it  is  not  peculiar  to  human  beings,  but  applies  to  all      "  Ufe 
life.     If  we  conceive  of  education  as  readjustment,  we  can 
scarcely  limit  it  to  man.     The  distinction  between  training 
and  education,  the  latter  being  confined  in  its  application  to 
humanity,1  disappears.     Education  is  an  universal  process  in 
the  world  of  organisms.     Wherever  there  is  an  inner  activity 
striving  to  preserve  its  identity  and  to  foster  its  own  peculiar 
aims  in  the  midst  of  circumstances,  some  hostile,  some  favor- 
able,  there  we  have  that  struggle  toward  adaptation  which 

1  See  Rosenkranz,  Philosophy  of  Education,  §  14. 
27 


28  Principles  of  Education 

constitutes  the  fundamental  nature  of  the  process  of  educa- 
tion. We  have  outer  stimuli,  the  effect  of  which  is  dissatis- 
faction ;  we  have  inner  growth,  the  proper  result  of  which  is 
a  restoration  of  the  equilibrium  of  the  feelings.  The  entire 
activity  must  be  conceived  as  teleological,  as  having  an  end  or 
aim. 

The  ascription  of  a  purposiveness  to  the  activities  of  all 
ness^iT6"  living  beings  does  not  involve  one  in  the  assumption  that  con- 
simpler  sciousness  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term  is  universal  therein. 

forms  of  re-  .  .  .  ,    *          .11  -i^  11 

adjust-  To  suppose  this  would  certainly  be  to  commit  the  psycholo- 
gist's fallacy."  *  One  has  only  to  mean  by  a  purpose  that  ten- 
dency on  the  part  of  each  living  being  to  maintain  and, 
perhaps,  to  enhance  the  conditions  that  make  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  its  identity.  Herein  we  have  a  cause,  i.e.,  the  perma- 
nency or  continuity  of  the  individual,  that  seems  to  point  to- 
ward the  future.  It  is  a  force  from  before  rather  than  one  from 
behind.  Hence  we  may  justly  call  it  a  final  cause.  That  it 
has  not  yet  assumed  the  form  of  clear  consciousness  does  not 
imply  that  it  must  be  construed  merely  as  a  blind  energy. 
It  is  a  force  of  direction,  not  one  of  execution.2  Its  function 
in  the  life  of  the  organism  is  as  little  mechanical  as  is  that  of 
the  most  deliberate  volition.  An  unconscious  want  is  no  more 
to  be  classed  under  the  head  of  physical  forces  than  is  judg- 
ment itself.  It  is  a  principle  of  organization,  of  direction, 
even  though  it  lacks  awareness  of  its  own  significance.  Its 
function  seems  to  be  that  of  deciding  between  alternatives,  a 
statement  that  applies  equally  well  to  the  human  will  and  to 
the  selective  powers  of  the  paramcecium.3 
Education  then  means  a  struggle  toward  better  adjustment. 

1  Compare  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  Ch.  VII. 

2  See  Solomon,  Alleged  Proof  of  Parallelism  from  the  Conservation  of  Energy, 
Philos.  Rev.,  March,  1899. 

1  Compare  Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  Ch.  III. 


Readjustment^  its  Conditions  and  Methods      29 


It  exists  because  there  is  a  lack  of  harmony  between  the  organ- 
ism and  its  environment,  and  because  the  organism  has  within 
it  a  sensitiveness  to  this  condition,  and  the  power  to  initiate 
activities  that  on  the  whole  make  for  better  conditions.  The 
controlling  forces  in  education  are  the  wants  of  the  organism, 
its  capacities,  and  the  external  conditions  with  which  these 
internal  forces  are  striving  to  cope.  All  of  these  forces  are 
intimately  related  to  each  other.  The  capacities  evolve  into 
actual  powers  under  the  stimulus  of  the  conditions  that  they 
seem  designed  to  master.  Whether  they  are  merely  accidental, 
inexplicable  variations,  or  whether  they  are  necessary,  though 
at  first  hidden,  properties  of  living  beings,  they  wait  the 
proper  conjunction  of  circumstances  before  they  can  reveal 
themselves  and  act.  So,  too,  the  wants  of  the  individual  take 
form  under  the  pressure  of  events.  The  external  conditions 
set  the  standard  in  terms  of  which  desire  and  capacity  are 
realized,  or  made  specific  and  concrete.  On  the  other  hand, 
mere  circumstances  do  not  account  for  life,  for  growth,  for 
evolution.  It  is  the  merest  platitude  to  say  that  conditions 
do  not  make  the  man,  but  only  offer  him  his  opportunity. 
It  is  quite  as  true  that  external  forces  can  do  nothing  for  any 
plant  or  animal  except  to  stimulate  inherent  tendencies. 
Cultivation  can  provide  only  a  better  chance  for  growth, 
which  is  always  from  within. 

By  those  whose  studies  have  led  them  to  observe  the  tre- 
mendous influence  that  nature  has  upon  history,  or  the  extent 
to  which  living  processes  can  be  explained  in  terms  of  the 
physical  movements  and  the  chemical  reactions  found  illus- 
trated in  the  phenomena  of  the  inorganic  world,  the  environ- 
ment is  likely  to  be  regarded  as  all  in  all.  That  each  new 
research  into  the  causes  of  social  evolution  states  more  clearly 
the  external  conditions  to  meet  which  human  growth  took 
place  cannot  be  denied.  So,  too,  each  new  study  of  the  physics 


Controlling 
factors  in 
readjust- 
ment 


Interdepend- 
ence of  the 
external 
and    inter- 
nal factors 
in  read- 
justment 


Evolution 
not     ex- 
plained by 
environ- 
mental 
conditions 


•jo  Principles  of  Education 

of  living  matter  convinces  us  that  the  intelligent  comprehen- 
sion of  its  laws  can  come  only  through  physics  and  more 
physics.  But  while  the  burden  of  our  effort  is  thus  turned 
toward  the  mechanics  of  life  and  society,  we  can  scarcely  say 
that  the  meaning  of  the  processes  is  in  the  least  made  clear  by 
such  studies,  any  more  than  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  mech- 
anism of  a  threshing  machine  would  convey  to  a  person  who 
knows  nothing  whatever  about  grain  any  conception  concerning 
its  function.  Even  should  the  chemist  by  some  trick  of  manipu- 
lation succeed  in  developing  in  his  laboratory  a  living  thing, 
he  could  not  understand  it  except  in  terms  of  those  internal 
wants  and  capacities,  the  analogue  to  which  he  finds  only  in 
himself  considered  as  a  being  having  feelings  and  will. 

The  fact  that  both  desire  and  capacity  may  be  said  to  be 
dependent  upon  external  conditions  for  the  form  that  they 
assume  cannot,  therefore,  be  advanced  to  destroy  our  natural 
belief  in  their  distinctness  and  reality.  We  have  here  some- 
thing more  than  the  physical  facts  in  terms  of  which  they 
express  themselves,  as  the  meaning  is  more  than  the  word. 
Accepting,  therefore,  both  the  internal  and  external  factors 
in  the  life  process  as  equally  fundamental,  let  us  attend 
again  to  the  nature  of  the  situations  in  which  the  readjustment 
Education  that  we  have  called  education  takes  place.  Manifestly  there 

by  lack  of  must  be  a  lack  of  harmony  between  organism  and  environment. 

adaptation  Moreover,  if  the  process  of  growth  is  to  be  continuous,  there 
must  be  in  operation  agencies  that  continually  frustrate  the 
endeavor  of  the  organism  to  effect  complete  adjustment.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  we  find  that  this  is  so.  No  such  thing  as 
complete  adaptation  exists  in  nature.  Even  where  it  seems  to 
exist,  experience  proves  that  there  are  forces  at  work  that  will 
ultimately  destroy  the  balance  and  result  in  change  in  the 
direction  either  of  growth  or  decay. 
These  forces  may  be  summed  up  under  two  heads,  —  changes 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods       31 

in  the  environment  and  changes  in  the  organism.  That  the  Changes  that 
first  of  these  exists  and  is  continually  operative  to  provoke 
new  adjustment  on  the  part  of  the  organism  is  patent.  The  aptaUon 
character  of  such  changes  and  the  types  of  environment 
dependent  on  this  fact  offer  the  initial  explanation  of  the 
functions  of  the  various  classes  of  living  beings  and  the  clew 
to  a  comprehension  of  their  evolution.  But  external  change, 
although  the  initial  stimulus  of  growth,  is  not  the  only  one. 
The  process  of  growth  brings  about  changes  in  the  organism 
that  themselves  tend  to  throw  it  out  of  gear  with  its  life  con- 
ditions. Since  growth  is  change,  it  is  subject  to  a  law  of  inertia 
that  forbids  it  to  stop  when  the  external  conditions  that  stim- 
ulated it  cease  to  trouble.  Newton's  first  law  of  motion  has 
its  analogy  in  the  physiological  and  psychical  realms.  The 
fuller  discussion  of  these  two  principles  of  change  will  follow 
in  the  two  succeeding  sections. 

To  summarize  the  discussion  of  this  section,  we  may  say  Summary 
that,  accepting  the  definition  of  education  in  terms  of  adjust- 
ment, we  undertake  to  study  more  closely  the  meaning  and 
implications  of  this  as  a  general  process  of  life  and  of  evolution. 
It  is  found  to  consist  in  the  development  on  the  part  of  the 
organism  of  certain  powers  whereby  it  may  better  secure  the 
satisfaction  of  its  wants  in  a  given  environment.  Wants  and 
capacities  both  get  their  definition  from  the  circumstances  in 
conjunction  with  which  they  appear.  They  are,  however, 
more  than  these  circumstances,  and  reveal  in  themselves  the 
true  significance  of  the  life  process,  which  is,  therefore,  teleologi- 
cal.  The  occasion  for  growth  is  furnished  primarily  by  changes 
in  the  environment  which  stimulate  growth.  This  process  of 
internal  expansion,  however,  is  subject  to  a  law  of  inertia  that 
tends  to  destroy  any  equilibrium  which  may  be  established 
between  the  organism  and  its  external  conditions. 


32  Principles  of  Education 

SECTION  4.    Environmental  variability 

It  has  been  said  that  changes  in  the  environment  constitute 
^e  Prmiary  stimulus  to  growth.  A  variable  environment 
and  educa-  will,  therefore,  be  one  in  which  the  process  of  readjustment, 
of  education,  will  be  much  in  evidence.  In  general,  the  varia- 
bility of  environments  is  in  proportion  to  their  complexity. 
If  we  were  to  characterize  environments  as  lower  and  higher, 
meaning  by  these  the  conditions  of  life  of  lower  and  higher 
orders  of  living  beings,  we  should  find  the  higher  environments 
by  far  the  more  complex  and  variable.  Since  the  amount 
and  nature  of  this  variability  determines  the  quantity  and 
character  of  education,  a  preliminary  comparison  of  lower  and 
higher  environments  from  this  point  of  view  is  here  in  place. 
To  facilitate  this  purpose  the  following  contrasts  are  suggested : 
(i)  uniform  environments  versus  those  affected  by  seasonal 
change ;  (2)  local  versus  regional  environments ;  (3)  physical 
versus  social  environments ;  (4)  natural  versus  artificial 
environments. 

ariability  (i)  Uniform  environments  versus  those  subject  to  seasonal 
men™™"  chmSe-  ~  Tm's  contrast  may  be  concretely  illustrated  by  the 
seasonal  deep-sea  environment  at  the  one  extreme,  and  at  the  other, 

change  ,        ,  , 

land  surfaces  in  temperate  or  frigid  zones.  In  general,  of 
course,  torrid  conditions  are  more  uniform  so  far  as  seasons  are 
concerned  than  temperate  or  frigid  ones,  and  bodies  of  water 
are  less  affected  by  such  changes  than  land  surfaces.  Not 
only  do  these  cases  illustrate  respectively  uniformity  and 
variability  in  temperature,  but  also  uniformity  and  variability 
in  food  supply  as  well.  This  latter  is  to  a  great  extent  de- 
pendent on  temperature,  and,  moreover,  the  constant  move- 
ments in  masses  of  water  go  far  toward  equalizing  any  changes 
in  nutritive  conditions  that  might  otherwise  come  to  exist. 
In  contrast  to  this  simplicity  and  uniformity,  regions  of 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      33 

seasonal  change  present  complexity  and  variety.    To  meet  TWO  methods 
this  condition  new  adaptations,  new  functions  appear  in  the      t/on^tcT* 
organism.     The  higher  environment  is  one  that  can  be  in-      seasonal 
habited  only  by  more  complex  and  more  flexible  species  than 
those  which  in  the  dawn  of  life  find  themselves  able  to  exist 
in  the  uniform  conditions  of  the  sea.     The  functions  that  cope 
with  the  variations  in  temperature,  food  supply,  moisture,  etc., 
which  characterize  seasonal  conditions,  may  be  classified  under 
two  heads:  first,  methods  of  temporary  protection  against  the 
changes  that  the  seasons  bring;  second,  the  power  of  move- 
ment by  which  the  animal  is  able  to  go  from  favorable  to  un- 
favorable localities. 

The  protective  adaptations  are  of  great  variety.  Trees  in  (0  Protective 
temperate  or  frigid  zones  change  their  internal  conditions  to  tions  * 
prepare  for  the  rigors  of  winter.  The  storing  of  food  in  the 
tuber  protected  by  the  earth  is  another  device  on  the  part  of 
some  plants  to  preserve  the  life  of  the  individual  during  winter 
and  to  provide  it  with  a  capital  of  food  in  the  spring.  Water 
may  be  stored  by  desert  plants.  Animals  hibernate,  mean- 
while consuming,  if  animation  be  not  suspended,  their  own 
tissue.  With  some  the  covering  grows  heavier  with  recurring 
cold.  Some  simple  organisms  are  desiccated  in  dry  seasons, 
and,  as  it  were,  come  to  life  again  when  water  is  supplied.1 
Others  contract  and  become  encysted  as  a  protection  against 
cold  or  other  destructive  physical  or  chemical  forces.  Fish 
may  become  practically  frozen  stiff,  so  that  vital  activities  are 
suspended  for  the  time  being,  to  be  resumed  when  the  proper 
temperature  recurs.2 

(2)  Local  versus  regional  environments.  —  Protective  adap-  (2)  Power  of 
tations  enable  life  to  continue,  usually  in  a  passive  form,  during 
the  unfavorable  season.     They  are  for  the  most  part  negative 

1  Compare  Verworn,  General  Physiology  (tr.  by  Lee),  p.  279. 
•  Ibid.,  p.  288. 
D 


34  Principles  of  Education 

adjustments.  The  power  of  movement  permits  its  possessor 
to  seek  a  favorable  environment,  and  thus  actively  to  continue 
the  life  processes  without  interruption.  But  change  of  'place, 
although  it  brings  with  it  a  certain  uniformity  in  vital  con- 
ditions that  is  not  enjoyed  by  organisms  inhabiting  one  spot 
or  narrow  locality,  nevertheless  requires  a  complexity  of  powers 
and  a  flexibility  in  their  use  that  far  more  than  compensates 
for  the  variety  of  protective  adaptations  that  power  of  move- 
Movement  ment  makes  unnecessary.  In  brief,  the  muscular  and  sensory 
ii-  organs  become  necessary,  the  one  to  perform  the  movements, 


cate  body  the  other  to  direct  these  performances  lest  movement  lead  into 

and     the       .  ,  ... 

power  of     mstead  of  away  from  unsatisfactory  or  dangerous  conditions. 

perception  -j^  connect  these  organs  the  nervous  system  must  exist,  and 
to  supply  the  energy  necessary  for  this  vigorous  type  of  life 
a  more  specialized  digestive,  circulatory,  and  respiratory 
system  must  be  developed.  The  animal  requires  a  peculiar 
and  already  partially  prepared  sort  of  food.  It  is  a  parasite 
upon  the  plant  world,  or,  perhaps,  upon  other  animals.  It 
requires  a  more  uniform  temperature  and  supply  of  air,  food, 
etc.  The  deprivation  of  any  necessity  more  quickly  results 
in  death  than  in  the  case  of  the  plant.  Injury  to  one  part  is 
more  likely  to  bring  about  the  death  of  the  whole. 
Evolution  of  In  consequence,  the  animal  must  be  able  to  detect  the  signs 

or  symbol  of  lack  of  adjustment  very  quickly.     Indeed,  it  must  be  able 

world  to  take  account  of  signs  that  merely  anticipate  lack  of  adjust- 
ment unless  something  is  done  to  prevent  this.  In  general, 
the  function  that  takes  account  of  these  symbols  is  that  of 
sensation.  The  various  forms  of  sensation  are  cognizant 
of  the  greatest  variety  of  conditions.  Delicate  changes  in 
temperature  or  pressure,  chemical  properties  that  distinguish 
tastes  or  odors,  the  form  and  color  of  objects  and  the  sounds 
that  emanate  from  them,  in  short,  the  great  world  of  perceived 
things  is  for  the  higher  animal  called  into  existence  by  the 


™ean" 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods       35 

senses  in  order  that  it  may  by  interpreting  this  aright  preserve 
that  uniformity  in  specialized  conditions  of  life  that  is  necessary 
for  its  existence.  Its  great  resource  is  its  power  of  movement. 
Its  great  guide  in  utilizing  this  resource  is  its  power  of  sensation. 

This  world  of  sense  is  therefore  a  symbolic  world.  It  does 
not  consist  of  changes  in  the  vital  conditions,  but  rather  in  Variability  in 
that  which  is  symbolic  of  these.  The  symbols  are  far  more  ^e  ™fe 
numerous,  far  more  complex  and  variable  than  the  things  sensory 
symbolized.  An  enemy  or  food  may  be  suggested  by  a  percep- 
tion of  the  eye,  by  a  sound,  or  by  an  odor.  Indeed,  the  range 
of  symbols  that  may  be  significant  seems  practically  unlimited, 
whereas  the  conditions  that  they  indicate  are  comparatively 
few  and  simple.  The  meaning  of  a  symbol  depends  upon  the 
context  of  sensations.  A  patch  of  red  swaying  gently  to  and 
fro  means  a  harmless  leaf  ;  one  that  moves  steadily  in  the  same 
direction  may  mean  a  deadly  foe.  The  variety  and  complex- 
ity of  these  symbols  implies  their  variability.  The  interpreting 
mind  is  forced  continually  to  learn  new  meanings  and  to  un- 
learn old  ones,  to  distinguish  between  the  significance  of  a 
symbol  in  one  context  from  that  in  another,  to  discriminate 
between  infallible  and  probable  signs. 

The  more  extensive  the  range  of  symbols  that  the  animal  Protection 
can  perceive  and  interpret,  the  greater  becomes  its  power  of 
effecting  adjustments  through  anticipatory  action,  and  hence 
the  more  secure  its  life.  It  purchases  safety  at  the  price  of 
eternal  vigilance.  It  must  be  alert  to  a  multitude  of  things 
that  for  the  lower  type  of  life  simply  do  not  exist.  Moreover, 
its  power  of  interpreting  carries  with  it  a  power  of  mistaking 
symbols.  It  must  possess  the  power  of  quickly  correcting 
mistakes,  of  making  reinterpretations,  or  its  weapon  of  defense 
will  prove  only  the  instrument  of  its  own  destruction.  Ca- 
pacity for  education  must  keep  pace  with  the  evolution  of 
power  of  movement  and  its  directing  sentiency. 


36  Principles  of  Education 

Forms  of  so-       (3)  Physical    versus    social    environments.  —  The    contrast 

1  between  physical  "and  social    environments  illustrates  similar 

facts.     Social  phenomena  may  take  the  form  of  competition 

Varieties  of  or  that  of  cooperation.  The  lowest  form  of  competition  ap- 
pears as  a  result  of  growth. and  multiplication  of  living  beings 
in  any  locality.  Each  affects  the  life  of  the  others  because  all 
have  a  common  feeding  ground.  Such  competition  is  not 
direct,  inasmuch  as  individuals  do  not  directly  attack  each 
other,  but  merely  affect  the  general  life  conditions  by  subtract- 
ing from  the  general  fund  of  food,  water,  sunlight,  etc.  Higher 
'  methods  of  competing  are  more  direct.  Parasitism,  where  one 
individual  or  species  devours  others,  illustrates  a  struggle  in 
which  the  contest  is,  as  it  were,  hand  to  hand.  Plants  may 
consume  each  other,  animals  all  prey  upon  plants,  and  the 
carnivores  upon  other  animals.  A  higher  form  of  direct  com- 
petition involves  the  struggle  to  remove  others  in  order  that 
desirable  conditions  may  be  monopolized.  Perhaps  the  highest 
form  of  competition  is  again  indirect,  involving  not  competi- 
tion in  consumption  but  rather  in  social  recognition.  Here 
the  endeavor  is  to  gain  a  social  reward  through  social  service 
or  conformity  to  social  ideals. 

Competition        The  multiplication  of  living  beings  makes  life  itself  more 
seSrity6  °    secure,  but  at  the  same  time  renders  the  problem  of  life  for  the 

Adthatati°tnS  individual  more  complex  and  variable.  To  meet  these  condi- 
requires  tions  new  adjustments  arise,  and  these  are  particularly  in 
evidence  among  orders  that  engage  in  either  direct  competi- 
tion or  struggle  for  social  recognition.  Muscular  strength  and 
swiftness  and  keenness  of  sense  gain  enormously  in  value,  and 
protective  armor,  teeth,  claws,  horns,  cunning,  evolve  to 
contribute  to  effectiveness  in  the  fierce  struggle.  Competi- 
tion for  social  recognition  involves  the  social  instinct,  and,  as 
a  rule,  the  higher  intellectual  powers  which  are  summed  up 
in  rationality. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Met/iods      37 


The  struggle  with  living  beings  not  only  involves  an  ex-  Competition 

.    ,         ,    *"         .  ,  .a  continual 

traordmary  array  of  special  adaptations,  but  the  problem  of      readjust- 

readjustment  comes  especially  in  evidence.     In  the  contest 

with  inorganic  nature  the  organism  encounters  an  adversary      ing  rival 

that  is  all-powerful  but  at  the  same  time  blind  and  mechani- 

cally uniform.     The  living  rival,  however,  is  continually  chang- 

ing his  tactics  to  meet  the  successful  inventions  of  his  enemy. 

In  competition  the  animal  is  compelled  continually  to  readjust 

himself  to  conditions  the  variability  of  which  is  a  function  of 

his  own  power  of  readjustment.     He  has  to  learn  to  meet, 

not  only  the  present  methods  of  his  adversary,  but  also  the 

methods  by  which  this  antagonist  will  counter  his  new  devices. 

He  must  take  account  of  and  strive  to  fathom  that  environ- 

ment of  mind  that  to  the  living  being  which  is  concerned  only 

with  physical  nature  is  non-existent,  an  environment  the  va- 

riations of  which  are  dependent  upon  conditions  so  capricious 

that  the  indeterminists  have  declared  them  to  obey  no  uniform 

law,  and  hence  to  be  beyond  the  ken  of  foresight. 

But  competition  alone  without  cooperation  can  scarcely  Powers  in- 
be  said  to  introduce  the  animal  into  the  inner  depths  of  that 
psychical  or  social  environment  that  lies  about  him.  Co- 
operation  is  the  true  revealer  of  mind  to  mind  ;  or  rather,  the 
regime  of  cooperation  in  its  higher  phases  is  impossible  without 
such  revelation,  and  so  without  the  social  and  moral  instincts 
and  the  intelligence  that  lifts  man  above  the  brutes.  Co- 
operation has  its  lower  levels,  in  which  it  is  a  result  of  mere 
blind  instinct,  and  in  these  phases  it  antedates  the  higher  forms 
of  competition.  Indeed,  group  competition  and  competition 
for  social  recognition  depend  on  cooperation.  But  on  its 
higher  levels  cooperation  involves  more  than  such  knowledge 
of  the  activities  of  mind  as  enables  one  to  destroy  another. 
In  such  a  contest  strength  and  good  fortune  are  often  more 
effective  than  wit,  and  wit  itself  is  of  that  low  order  that 


38  Principles  of  Education 

contents  itself  with  "treasons  and  stratagems."  Intelligent 
cooperation  means  such  mental  and  moral  power  as  enables 
one  mind  to  influence  another,  to  control  it,  to  reduce  it  to 
subservience,  or  to  inspire  it  to  independence,  to  govern,  to 
exploit,  to  educate,  to  uplift. 

Especial  van-  If  to  a  rival  the  problem  of  struggle  is  one  of  continual  read- 
the^condi-  justment  to  one  who  is  himself  readjusting,  this  factor  of 
tionsofco-  fathoming  and  dealing  with  the  variable  becomes  more  in 
evidence  when  an  attempt  is  made  to  reach  those  mainsprings 
of  human  action  that  must  be  touched  to  bring  about  coopera- 
tion. To  be  a  companion,  a  benefactor,  a  ruler,  or  a  teacher 
demands  a  comprehension  of  human  attitudes,  ideas,  and 
motives,  a  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  human  nature  that  is 
exhaustless.  Hence,  the  one  who  cooperates  must  perpetually 
learn.  He  is  striving  to  determine  the  nature  of  a  mind  and 
will,  which  because  it  is  a  living  mind  and  will  is  itself  contin- 
ually active,  growing  and  determining  in  new  ways  both  itself 
and  others. 

Security  of          The  social  environment  brings  with  it  a  security  that  amply 
ronment'     repays  the  struggle  to  preserve  adjustment  to  it,  to  learn  its 
ofcoopera-  variable  ways.    From  parental  fosterage  to  military  protec- 
tion, and  on  to  the  law,  order,  education,  and  philanthropy  of 
civilization  a  steady  advance  has  been  made  in  rendering  the 
resources  of  the  individual  identical  with  those  of  the  group 
New  wants  as  or  of  humanity.     Society  is  a  mutual   insurance   company 

the  price  of  .      ,     ,  .  * 

society  against  the  uncertainties  of  the  struggle  with  the  elements  or 
with  hostile  life.  Moreover,  just  as  the  vital  conditions  for 
the  animal  are  more  specialized  than  for  the  plant,  and  as 
through  any  deficiency  it  may  more  quickly  be  brought  to 
ruin,  so  the  demands  of  those  functions  that  enable  us  to  dwell 
in  social  cooperation  are  more  delicate  and  more  exacting  than 
are  the  requirements  of  life  in  contact  merely  with  physical 
nature.  For  society  means  the  interest  of  all  in  the  welfare 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      39 

of  each  and  the  dependence  of  each  on  the  good  will  of  all. 
Hence  one's  needs  are  no  longer  limited  to  food  and  drink 
and  other  physical  wants,  but  include  the  welfare  of  one's 
fellows  and  their  approval.  The  instabilities  of  life  in  society 
are  due  far  more  to  the  unhappiness  of  injured  sympathies 
or  to  the  sense  of  social  failure  than  to  the  lack  of  the  actual 
physical  necessities  of  life. 

(4)  Natural  versus  artificial  environments.  —  Of  all  the  func-  The    highest 
tions,  that  one  which  addresses  itself  most  directly  to  the  task      thafoT 
of  providing  secure  conditions  of  life  is  the  power  of  creating      creating 
an  artificial   environment.     By  an   artificial   environment  is      meats0" 
meant  those  provisions  by  which  a  living  being  assures  for  him- 
self the  conditions  of  life  when  these  would  not  be  provided 
by  nature.     Food  is  stored,  shelter  is  provided  against  the 
weather  and  living  enemies.     There  is  doubtless  a  natural 
evolution  from  fat  and  fur  to  granary  and  clothing.     With 
the  latter  we  have  really  come  to  what  we  may  call  an  artificial 
environment.     From   simply    storing   what   nature   gives   in 
excess  in  her  moments  of  bounty,  we  come  to  control  and  de- 
velop her  powers  of  production  and  to  elaborate  these  products. 
The  use  of  fire,  weapons,   tools,   domestic  animals,  capital,  Security    of 
institutions  of  society  from  the  court  of  justice  to  the  public      Vj   \^, 
school,  —  all  these  are  illustrations  of  the  ways  and  means  by      ronment 
which  man  conies  to  substitute  for  the  uncertainties  of  climate 
and  soil,  for  the  caprice  of  fortune  and  the  injustice  of  his 
fellows,  an  artificial  condition  that  means  comparative  uni- 
formity, security,  fair  play,  mercy,  and  finally  more  constant 
and  rapid  progress  toward  better  conditions. 

The  artificial  environment  consists  of  that  which  is  created  Provision  for 
to-day  to  be  utilized  to-morrow.  It  is  the  environment  of  J^  adjust- 
anticipation  and  provision.  In  producing  it  the  animal  is  menttova- 

•  •  f  nabihty 

adjusting  himself,  not  to  the  present  emergency,  but  rather     itself 
to  one  as  yet  in  the  future.     But  if  the  adjustment  to  present 


Principles  of  Education 


Functions 
that  deal 
with  the 
variable 


emergencies  demands  constant  learning  and  relearning,  what 
should  we  say  about  the  efforts  that  are  aimed  to  meet  the 
situations  of  hidden  time  to  come  ?  When  we  enter  that  land 
of  mystery,  our  activities  take  on  the  character  of  mere  prep- 
arations to  readjust,  —  tentative,  uncertain  steps  taken  partly 
to  test  the  character  of  the  ground,  partly  in  the  hope  that  it 
may  prove  firm  and  our  effort  be  not  lost.  Our  products  are 
mere  conjectures,  hypotheses,  surrounded  by  the  atmosphere 
of  doubt,  interpenetrated  with  the  uncertainty  that  over- 
comes us  when  we  come  to  realize  to  how  small  a  degree  the 
gift  of  prophecy  is  ours.  We  pile  up  alternative  securities 
that  we  may  have  abundant  resources  to  fall  back  upon  when 
some  fail.  In  adjusting  ourselves  to  the  future  we  are  in  a 
very  real  sense  endeavoring  to  cope,  not  with  this  or  that 
varying  thing,  but  with  variability  itself. 

The  principal  adaptations  by  which  the  individual  is  enabled 
to  create  and  master  an  artificial  environment  are  intelligence 
and  persistence.  The  instincts  of  prevision  expand  into  the 
conscious  foresight  of  man.  Reasoning  Professor  James  has 
defined  as  the  "power  of  dealing  with  novel  data."  Useful 
in  all  higher  environments,  since  variability  is  so  universal 
a  characteristic  of  them,  it,  together  with  the  moral  persever- 
ance which  is  necessary  to  render  it  effective,  constitutes  the 
one  thing  needful  in  constructing  that  artificial  condition  the 
essence  of  which  is  its  adaptation  to  futurity  and  variability. 
Reasoning  endeavors  to  seize  these  fundamental  laws  of  ex- 
perience in  terms  of  which  all  variation  can  be  expressed,  to 
accumulate  resources  by  which  the  situations  indicated  by 
these^laws  can  be  satisfactorily  controlled,  and  so  to  train  the 
individual  that  these  resources  will  be  utilized  when  needed. 
Intelligence  finds  its  primary  function  in  readjustment,  and 
in  this  power,  therefore,  capacity  for  education  finds  its  highest 
expression. 


Readjiistment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods       41 

Surveying  briefly  the  results  of  the  preceding  analysis,  we  Summary 
note  the  one  striking  fact  of  the  increase  in  environmental 
variability  as  we  go  from  lower  to  higher  environments.  A 
regional  environment  necessarily  takes  on  the  character  of 
surroundings  consisting  of  the  symbols  of  sense.  These 
symbols  are  indefinite  in  number,  and  constantly  change  their 
significance  as  circumstances  change.  The  social  environment 
is  variable  with  what  to  the  onlooker  seems  like  the  indeter- 
minateness  of  the  will.  The  artificial  environment  is  of  the 
essence  of  provision  against  the  chance  and  change  of  the  future. 
The  evolution  of  functions  to  meet  these  higher  conditions 
must,  therefore,  be  a  process  of  perfecting  the  methods  of  read- 
justment. The  evolution  of  life  may  from  this  point  of  view 
not  improperly  be  called  the  development  of  capacity  for  edu- 
cation. Thus  education  is  not  only  a  factor  in  evolution,  but 
an  important  aspect  of  its  goal. 

SECTION  5.     The  evolution  of  wants 

We  have  seen  that  readjustment  means  the  development  Theevoiu- 
of  new  powers  in  the  organism  in  order  that  it  may  more  satis- 


factorily  gratify  in  the  given  environment  the  wants  of  its      stimulus 
nature.     The  stimulus  to  growth  is  dissatisfaction,  and  this      justment 
may  result  either  from  environmental  variations,  which  render 
the  old  methods  incapable  of  attaining  to  old  satisfactions,  or 
from  the  evolution  of  new  wants  within  the  organism  itself, 
which  make  it  discontented  with  results  hitherto  regarded  as 
satisfactory.     We  have  spoken  of  environmental  variability 
as  the  primary  stimulus  to  growth.     The  evolution  of  wants 
may  for  the  present  be  regarded  as  a  secondary  stimulus  to 
such  activity. 

It  will  be  noted  that,  since  wants  spring  from  within,  their  La.w  °f  ll.lc 

inertia  of 

evolution  is  a  process  of  growth.     Thus  growth  itself  produces      growth 


Principles  of  Education 


Illustrations 
of  this  law 
in    (i)    in- 
crease  in 
size, 


(2)  changes 
in  compo- 
sition or 
structure, 


wants  which  stimulate  further  growth.  This  principle  may  be 
called  the  inertia  of  growth.  We  have  stated  it  more  abstractly 
as  follows  :  the  process  of  growth  brings  about  changes  in  the 
organism  that  themselves  tend  to  throw  it  out  of  gear  with  its  life 
conditions.1 

The  inertia  of  growth  finds  one  of  its  simplest  illustrations  in 
the  supposed  cause  of  the  fission  of  the  amoeba.  Spencer  2 
called  attention  to  the  fact  that,  since  the  amoeba  absorbs 
food  through  the  surface  of  its  body,  the  amount  that  it  can 
take  in  will  depend  upon  the  extent  of  that  surface.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  amount  that  it  needs  depends  on  its  volume. 
Since  by  a  simple  geometrical  principle  volume  in  similar 
solids  increases  faster  than  surface,  the  growing  amceba,  like 
population  under  the  law  of  Malthus,  is  continually  tending  to 
outgrow  its  powers  of  nourishing  itself.  Thus  it  inevitably 
comes  to  a  crisis  in  which  the  only  salvation  is  a  revolutionary 
restoration  of  an  earlier  status,  which  is  accomplished  by  sim- 
ply splitting  itself  in  two. 

It  is  probable  that  the  amoeba  here  illustrates  a  compara- 
tively universal  physiological  principle.  The  power  of  sus- 
tentation  tends  to  increase  its  burdens  until  it  can  support 
them  only  with  extreme  difficulty,  if  at  all.  There  are  other 
physiological  illustrations  of  the  inertia  of  growth.  Not  only 
in  the  general  increase  in  size  on  the  part  of  the  individual  or 
the  species,  but  also  in  the  chemical  and  structural  changes 
that  go  on  in  various  parts  of  the  body,  do  we  see  the  tendency 
for  growth  to  continue  beyond  the  point  of  perfect  adjust- 
ment. For  example,  the  change  of  cartilage  into  bony  tissue, 
by  which  the  skeleton  of  the  child  gradually  becomes  capable 
of  supporting  and  protecting  the  body  of  the  man,  depends 
on  a  chemical  change  in  the  constituents  of  the  bones  which 
continues  until  in  old  age  it  renders  them  brittle  and  fragile. 
1  See  p.  31 .  a  Principles  of  Biology. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      43 

Professor  Minot  says  of  this  transformation  that  it  offers  a 
"clear  illustration  of  a  principle  of  change  in  the  very  old  which 
is,  I  take  it,  perhaps  sufficiently  well  expressed  by  saying  that 
the  change  which  is  natural  in  the  younger  stage  is  in  the  old 
carried  to  excess."1  The  same  writer  maintains2  that  the 
processes  of  growth  involve  the  differentiation  or  the  develop- 
ment of  special  characteristics  in  the  cytoplasm  of  the  cells, 
a  change  that  brings  about  a  loss  of  the  power  of  multiplica- 
tion that  originally  belonged  to  the  cells,  and  without  which  the 
losses  by  decay  and  death  in  the  differentiated  cells  cannot  be 
made  good.  The  inevitable  result  is  senescence  and  death. 
Thus  growth  toward  adjustment  through  differentiation  con- 
tinues until  it  brings  about  a  need  for  readjustment  through 
rejuvenation,  and  a  consequent  initiation  of  a  new  cycle  of 
differentiation  in  a  new  generation. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  education,  a  most  important  (3)  special 
example  of  the  inertia  of  growth  is  found  in  the  physiology  of 
habit.  Habit  depends  on  the  establishment  of  special  path-  forming, 
ways  of  discharge  through  the  nervous  system.  These  path- 
ways are  formed  through  the  approximation  or  synapsis  of  the 
delicate  nerve  endings  in  the  central  nervous  system.  A  nerv- 
ous discharge  which  was  at  first  sent  diffusely  through  many 
channels  is  in  consequence  conducted  in  the  main  through  but 
one.  The  synapsis  involves  a  special  supply  of  nutrition,  and 
this  again  involves  the  neglect,  possibly  the  atrophy,  of  parts 
not  selected  and  exercised.  Thus  growth  of  one  part  is  fostered 
at  the  expense  of  others.  To  that  which  hath  is  given.  But 
this  specialized  growth  interferes  with  the  power  of  readjust- 
ment in  case  a  shifting  of  conditions  should  make  the  resusci- 
tation and  functioning  of  the  atrophied  parts  desirable.  More  ! 
it  may  continue  leading  certain  parts  more  and  more  to  mo- 
nopolize the  nutriment  until  other  parts,  the  cooperation  of 

1  Age,  Growth,  and  Death,  p.  22.  2  Compare  Ibid.,  pp.  249-250. 


44  Principles  of  Education 

which  is  essential  to  sustain  the  life  processes,  are  no  longer 
able  to  support  the  burden  of  their  function,  thus  bringing 
about  extreme  instability,  if  not  positive  maladjustment,  for 
the  organism  as  a  whole. 

(4)  psychic  Perhaps  for  our  purposes  the  most  important  illustration 
shown10in'  °^  tne  mertia  °f  growth  is  found  in  functional,  especially 
the  evolu-  psychic  evolution.  It  is  a  commonplace  that  the  process  of 
wants' of  acquiring  the  ability  to  satisfy  certain  desires  usually  involves 
sense,  ^ne  creation  of  a  number  of  new  ones.  To  accumulate  simply 
means  to  breed  the  desire  to  accumulate.  The  increase  in 
wages  of  the  workers  brings  with  it  an  increase  in  their  stand- 
ards of  living,  and  they  remain  as  discontented  as  before. 
Education  often  fosters  discontent,  for  it  increases  desires 
faster  than  it  supplies  the  means  of  their  satisfaction.  These 
platitudes  of  experience  find  their  universal  expression  in  the 
evolution  of  consciousness.  With  the  development  of  power 
of  movement,  as  we  have  seen,  the  function  of  sentiency  is 
born,  or,  at  any  rate,  expands  from  the  primitive  irritability 
of  unicellular  forms  of  life  into  the  variety  and  richness  that 
is  correlated  with  the  appearance  of  the  various  specialized 
organs  of  sense.  The  symbols  that  appeal  to  sense  become 
invested  with  all  the  interest  that  in  simpler  organisms  is 
reserved  for  conditions  immediately  affecting  the  vital  pro- 
cesses. Thus  the  animal  becomes  absorbed,  not  only  in  the 
destruction  or  the  building  up  of  its  body,  but  in  whatever 
threatens  the  one  or  promises  the  other.  Its  wants  have 
expanded  to  include  an  environment  symbolic  only  of  good. 
It  fears  and  hopes.  Its  safety  is  secured  at  the  cost  of  becom- 
ing entangled  in  the  world  of  meanings.  Among  these  mean- 
ings are  pleasure  and  pain  themselves,  which,  as  premonitory 
of  welfare  and  danger,  come  into  greater  demand  the  more 
extensive  the  resources  of  the  organism  for  warding  off  injury 
or  attaining  good  may  be.  Thus  life  evolves  from  conditions 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      45 

in  which  the  struggle  with  a  hostile  environment  is  simple  and 
passive  and  slow  to  forms  in  which  it  is  alert  to  a  multitude 
of  significances  and  intensely  disturbed  by  them  in  order  that 
reaction  may  be  speedy  and  effective.  It  is  a  well-known 
fact  of  experimental  psychology  that  reaction  time  is  in  a 
measure  a  function  of  the  painful  or  intense  character  of  the 
stimulus  or  of  the  clearness  with  which  this  is  discriminated.1 
Thus  with  the  evolution  of  swifter  activity  we  find  that  wants 
are  not  only  multiplied,  but  become  more  sharp.  They  ex- 
pand from  unconscious  vital  impulses  into  definite  pains  and 
anxieties. 

The  development  of  cooperation  and  society,  of  prevision  (ft)  wants  of 
and  the  artificial  environment,  involves  the  same  increase  in 
the  complexity  and,  doubtless,  in  the  intensity  of  our  wants. 
The  social  individual  must  include  in  his  desires  the  desires 
of  society.  Sympathy,  mutual  help,  and  morality  involve  a 
keen  appreciation  of  the  happiness  and  the  misery,  the  welfare 
and  the  rights  of  others,  and  of  our  duties  toward  them.  To 
be  a  social  individual  means  to  be  incapable  of  contentment 
in  the  midst  of  the  discontent  of  our  fellows,  no  matter  how 
satisfactory  our  adjustments  are  from  the  physical  point  of 
view.  Christianity  has  conceived  its  leader  as  one  whose  inter- 
ests were  as  wide  as  humanity,  and  hence  a  "Man  of  Sorrows." 
So,  too,  he  who  labors  now  to  create  conditions  to  be  utilized  W  wants  of 
in  the  future  becomes  by  his  foresight  interested  in  a  universe 
that  for  him  who  is  absorbed  only  in  satisfying  his  immediate 
needs  cannot  be  said  to  exist.  One  who  "  looks  before  and 
after"  is  one  whose  "sincerest  laughter"  is  "fraught  with 
pain."  The  want  that  creates  care  comes  with  the  intelli- 
gence that  strives  to  fathom  and  forestall  the  future. 

In  a  sense  the  higher  environments  with  their  complexity 

1  Compare  fienmon,  The  Time  of  Perception  as  a  Measure  of  Differences  in 
Sensation. 


46 


Principles  of  Education 


Higher  en- 
vironments 
the  product 
of  higher 
functions 


Unforeseen 
results  of 
functional 
evolution 


and  variability  and  consequent  demand  upon  our  powers  of 
readjustment  are  merely  the  product  of  the  higher  functions, 
the  evolution  of  which  is  the  result  of  the  inner  growth  of  the 
organism.  The  sense  world  cannot  exist  to  the  creature 
unendowed  with  senses,,  nor  society  to  an  organism  without 
the  instincts  and  the  intelligence  that  enable  the  apprehension 
of  other  minds.  The  world  of  the  future  is  a  living  reality 
only  to  those  capable  of  prophecy.  Nature  to  the  amoeba 
is  indeed  a  poor  affair,  but  the  man  does  not  find  himself  in  an 
environment  that  differs  from  that  of  the  amoeba,  except 
through  his  own  increased  power  of  apprehending  it.  Thus 
the  functions  and  the  corresponding  wants  summon  the  higher 
environments  into  reality,  at  least  the  only  reality  that  is  of 
any  importance  to  the  organism. 

But  when  the  function  has  once  called  forth  the  new  world, 
it  finds  this  creation  infused  with  a  spirit  of  independence, 
intractable,  variable  with  its  own  caprice,  a  veritable  Franken- 
stein. Thus,  although  with  the  idealist  or  the  pragmatist 
we  may  regard  the  world  of  reality  as  an  expression  of  mind  or 
will,  it  is  evident  that  when  we  come  to  cope  with  this  universe, 
we  are  compelled  with  the  realist  to  will  or  think  it  to  be  what 
it  is.  It  is  and  remains  a  problem,  a  challenge  to  readjustment, 
even  though  it  sprang  into  being  because  of  the  rise  of  powers, 
the  immediate  purpose  of  which  was  to  effect  adjustment  to 
lower  conditions  of  life. 

Environmental  variability  may  be  characterized  as  the  un- 
expectedness of  the  emergencies  of  life.  The  inertia  of  growth 
is  merely  a  name  for  the  same  thing  when  we  look  at  it  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  outcome  of  any  effort  toward  adjust- 
ment. The  conditions  of  growth  are  vaster  than  the  imme- 
diate purpose  of  the  grower.  Hence  growth  does  not  cease 
when  its  immediate  results  are  gained.  The  environment  is 
not  summed  up  in  the  definite  situation  which  can  be  met  by 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      47 

definite  attainable  methods.  Hence  it  is  exhaustless  in  its 
demands  upon  readjustment.  But  although  we  may  agree 
that  in  the  last  analysis  the  inner  and  outer  stimuli  to  growth 
are  interdependent  and  in  effect  the  same,  it  is  not  important 
to  insist  upon  their  identity  in  discussing  the  methods  of  read- 
justment or  the  concrete  problems  of  education.  Apparently 
the  change  in  wants  and  functions  and  the  change  in  external 
conditions  of  life  are  distinct  and  independent,  and  we  shall 
not  gain  in  treating  our  subject  by  thinking  of  them  otherwise.  . 

In  conclusion,  we  may  say  that  the  occasion  for  growth  or  Summary 
readjustment  may  be,  not  merely  variation  in  the  environ- 
ment, but  also  changes  incidental  to  the  process  of  readjust- 
ment itself.  These  changes  we  sum  up  under  the  title,  inertia 
of  growth.  They  include  the  increased  burdens  entailed  by 
general  growth,  the  dangers  incidental  to  prolonged  chemical 
changes,  at  first  useful  or  indispensable,  the  loss  of  power  in- 
volved in  differentiation  of  function  and  the  formation  of  habit 
with  consequent  inability  to  repair  loss,  to  readjust,  to  preserve 
the  balance  in  vital  activities,  and  finally  the  development 
with  the  evolution  of  new  functions  of  new  wants  which  involve 
intenser  activities  of  readjustment  than  were  necessary  before. 
Thus  not  only  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  environment, 
but  also  from  that  of  the  inner  activity  of  the  organism  itself, 
readjustment  makes  necessary  more  readjustment,  evolution 
creates  a  tendency  to  faster  evolution,  education  intensifies 
the  need  to  learn.  As  the  need  for  readjustment  increases  its 
methods  change,  and  we  shall  now  discuss  forms  that  they 
assume. 

SECTION  6.    Types  of  readjustment 

We  have  defined  education  as  a  process  of  readjustment,   TWO  methods 
and  have  endeavored  to  set  forth  the  conditions  of  such  a      ?f  /ead" 

justment 

process.     But  although  education  is  readjustment,  it  is  not  of 


48  Principles  of  Education 

necessity  true  that  all  readjustment  may  be  called  a  process  of 
education.  Strictly  speaking,  education  is  only  one  of  the 
forms  which  readjustment  takes.  In  the  course  of  evolution 
another  form  has  appeared  to  strengthen  the  resources  that 
have  enabled  this  function  to  cope  with  the  more  and  more 
difficult  problems  that  it  has  been  compelled  to  face. 

(1)  Educa-         In  the  first  place,  it  is  evident  that  education  is  always  a 
tinuoiTin-  Process  °f  individual  development.     We  might  speak  of  racial 
dividual       readjustment,  which  in  contrast  to  this  goes  on  by  the  process 
ment"5        of  natural  selection,  operating  upon  variations  which  do  not 

arise  because  of  education,  but  are  present  at  the  beginning 
of  the  life  of  the  individual.  Again,  education  is  a  more  or  less 

(2)  Repro-     continuous  process  of  growth  in  the  individual.     Occasionally, 
discontinu-  however,   we   note  that  readjustment  is   accomplished   by  a 
ous    racial  discontinuous  process.     Life  persists,  but  there  is  a  sudden 
ment          and  revolutionary  change  in  its  form.     This  change  is  called 

reproduction,  which  is  frequently  characterized  as  discontinu- 
ous growth.  Part  of  the  body  of  the  parent  is,  as  it  were,  set 
aside,  and  begins  life  on  its  own  account  as  a  distinct  individual. 
This  change  is  frequently  accompanied  by  the  death  of  the 
parent.  In  any  event,  the  life  cycle  of  the  offspring  normally 
continues  for  a  considerable  period  after  its  progenitor  has 
perished. 

Now  as  continuous  growth  is  normally  a  process  of  read- 
justment, we  might  assume  the  same  of  discontinuous  growth. 
Thus  Geddes  and  Thompson  declare  :  — 

"Le  Conte  and  others  have  pointed  out  that  reproduction 
really  begins  with  the  almost  mechanical  breakage  of  a  unit 
mass  of  living  matter,  which  has  grown  too  large  for  successful 
coordination.  Reproduction,  in  fact,  begins  with  rupture. 
Large  cells,  beginning  to  die,  save  their  lives  by  sacrifice. 
Reproduction  is  literally  a  life-saving  against  the  approach 
of  death.  Whether  it  be  the  almost  random  rupture  of  one 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      49 

of  the  more  primitive  forms  such  as  Schizogenes,  or  the  over- 
flow and  separation  of  multiple  buds  as  in  Arcella,  or  the  dis- 
solution of  a  few  of  the  infusorians,  an  organism,  which  is 
becoming  exhausted,  saves  itself,  and  multiplies  in  reproduc- 
ing. In  some  cases,  reproduction  is  effected  by  outflowing 
processes  of  the  cell  which  have  gone  a  little  too  far.  Now, 
such  primitive  forms  of  multiplication,  gradually  becoming 
more  definite,  express  a  predominant  katabolism  in  the  unit 
mass.  Reproduction  in  its  simplest  forms  is  associated  with 
a  katabolic  crisis."  1 

According  to  this  view,  then,  reproduction  occurs  at  a  crisis  Reproduc- 
when  readjustment  is  necessary,  and  through  it  an  effective      at^a 
adaptation  is  secured.     Let  us  examine  a  little  more  carefully     bolic 
both  the  character  of  the  crisis  which  reproduction  alone  can 
meet,  and  the  methods  by  which  it  brings  about  readjustment. 

Reproduction  is  "associated  with  a  katabolic  crisis."  Pre- 
dominance of  destructive  over  constructive  processes,  when 
this  becomes  threatening  or  critical,  forces  this  revolutionary 
change  in  form.  However,  ordinary  continuous  growth  is, 
as  we  have  seen,  occasioned  by  some  lack  of  adjustment  between 
the  wants  and  the  supply.  Katabolism  is  going  on.  The 
loss  must  be  replaced,  and  with  this  replacement  must  come, 
if  the  organism  be  growing,  some  movement  in  the  direction  of 
greater  efficiency  in  supplying  the  needs  that  waste  or  any 
other  indispensable  activity  of  life  creates.  But  it  is  the  crisis 
in  katabolism  that  compels  reproduction.  Now  a  crisis  must 
be  a  situation  which  the  normal  processes  of  continuous  re- 
adjustment either  aggravate  or,  at  any  rate,  fail  to  help. 
Such  a  crisis  we  find  may  be  brought  about  by  revolutionary  Causes  of 
changes  in  the  environment  or  by  the  inertia  of  growth  or  by 
both.  In  general,  however,  it  is  evident  that  the  inertia  of 
growth  is  usually  in  some  way  concerned  in  the  difficulty, 

1  The  Evolution  of  Sex,  Ch.  XVII,  §  2. 


50  Principles  of  Education 

for  it  is  in  the  inability  of  continuous  growth  to  reverse  itself, 
to  change  radically  its  direction  or  character,  or  even  to  cease 
to  go  on  as  it  has,  that  makes  impossible  the  re  adaptation 
when  the  extraordinary  environmental  change  takes  place. 

The  most  important  revolution  in  conditions  of  life  that  is 
concerned  in  forcing  the  katabolic  crisis  is  seasonal  change. 
Comparatively  few  organisms  survive  such  change  except 
through  reproduction.  On  the  other  hand,  increase  in  size, 
changes  in  the  balance  of  parts  or  their  chemical  composition, 
or  differentiation  of  structure,  all  are  most  fruitful  sources  of 
the  critical  situation.  These  forms  of  growth  are  all  fostered 
by  favorable  environments,  seasons  of  abundance.  Thus 
we  have  the  curious  paradox  that  the  katabolic  crisis  may 
result  from  very  favorable  conditions,  through  the  promotion 
by  them  of  processes  of  growth,  the  inertia  of  which  carries 
the  organism  beyond  the  condition  of  perfect  adjustment,  or 
from  very  unfavorable  conditions,  where  the  needs  of  normal 
metabolism  cannot  be  supplied.  Indeed,  both  conditions 
conspire,  for  the  more  extensive  the  growth  during  the  favor- 
able season,  the  more  unstable  the  condition  of  the  organism 
to  effect  the  adjustments  necessary  when  the  season  of  hard- 
ship appears. 

Results  of  a      When  we  turn  to  the  character  of  the  readjustments  effected 

crilf01       kv  reproduction,  we  find  great  variety.    The  katabolic  crisis 

may  bring  about  four  alternative  results:   (i)  the  death  of  the 

organism  ;    (2)  the  resolution  of  the  total  body  of  the  parent 

into  a  number  of  smaller  individuals  ;   (3)  the  disruption  of  the 

body  of  the  parent  into  parts,  one  of  which  dies,  while  the  other 

continues  to  live  as  one  or  a  number  of  individuals;    (4)  a 

Three  advan-  similar  disruption  with  a  continuation  of  life  on  the  part  of 

results3 of     tne  Parent  body  for  a  certain  period.     In  the  three  latter  cases 

reproduc-     reproduction  has  effected  readjustment,  either  (i)  by  putting 

the  surviving  parts  of  the  parent  body  in  a  condition  capable 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      51 

of  meeting  changed  life  conditions,  or  (2)  by  relieving  the 
tension  due  to  the  inertia  of  growth,  or  (3)  by  giving  rise  to 
offspring  in  which  the  direction  of  growth  can  be  changed  into 
ways  impossible  for  the  parent  form  to  enter.  Indeed,  all 
these  advantages  may  accrue  from  a  revolutionary  change  in 
form. 

The  first  advantage  may  be  gained  from  a  mere  reduction  in  The  first  ad- 
size.  The  smaller  organism  may  when  food  supply  has  become 
less  abundant  be  able  to  sustain  itself  better  than  the  larger 
one.  This  gain  is  illustrated  in  the  fission  of  the  amoeba,  and 
is  one  of  the  most  general  advantages  of  reproduction.  Again 
the  reproduced  form  may  be  protected  by  a  cyst  or  other 
covering,  within  which  the  germ  may  lie  with  vital  activities 
temporarily  suspended,  but  at  the  same  time  shielded  against 
hostile  cold,  or  scarcity  of  food  or  water,  or  even  the  attacks  of 
enemies.  The  encysted  protozoon,  the  seed,  the  egg,  the 
cocoon,  the  placental  protection  of  the  mammal  are  all  illus- 
trations of  this  form  of  adaptation ;  except  that  in  the  two 
latter  cases  we  have  abundant  food  supply  and  a  continuance 
of  vital  activities. 

The  smaller  size,  the  protected  form,  and  the  greater  number 
of  the  offspring  all  contribute  to  effective  dispersal  of  the 
species.  Such  dispersal  may  enable  some  of  the  new  genera- 
tion to  find  a  more  advantageous  habitat  than  that  of  the 
parent.  This  is  particularly  important  in  the  case  of  plants  or 
sessile  animals,  for  the  detachment  of  the  reproduced  form 
enables  it  to  be  scattered  broadcast.  Thus  the  plant  accom- 
plishes through  its  seed  what  the  animal  does  through  move- 
ment. It  readjusts  itself  through  offspring  that  are  not  only 
protected  so  that  life  is  preserved  indefinitely  even  though 
conditions  be  severe,  but  are  also  in  a  form  to  be  blown  about 
by  the  winds  or  carried  by  water  currents  or  by  birds  or  other 
animals  until  some  few  encounter  both  the  favoring  season 


Principles  of  Education 


(d)   other 
adaptations 


The  second 
advantage 
of   repro- 
duction as 
relief  of 
organic 
tension 


and  other  conditions  more  advantageous  than  those  which 
surround  the  abandoned  parent. 

Dispersal  may  be  favored  by  adaptations  peculiar  to  the 
reproduced  form.  Thus  the  seed  may  be  equipped  with  wing- 
like  or  downy  structures  to  facilitate  flight,  or  it  may  be  sur- 
rounded with  food,  the  main  use  of  which  is  not  to  provide  it 
with  a  store  of  nutriment  when  it  starts  life  anew,  but  rather 
to  attract  the  birds  or  other  animals  which  devour  the  food  but 
disperse  the  seed  itself.  The  last  stage  in  the  metamorphosis 
of  insects  is  usually  a  winged  form,  and  in  many  cases  this  form 
is  very  short-lived,  existing  merely  to  insure  the  dispersal  of 
the  eggs  that  it  lays. 

Other  adaptations  gained  by  the  reproduced  form  may  fit 
it  especially  for  those  life  conditions  in  which  its  vital  activities 
are  likely  to  be  resumed.  Thus  the  larval  form  of  insects  is 
invariably  especially  adapted  to  nourish  itself  on  the  food 
that  is  practically  certain  to  surround  it  when  it  hatches  out 
from  the  egg.  This  adjustment  of  the  newly  born  to  its  food 
conditions  is  practically  universal.  Moreover,  the  protective 
coloring,  the  means  of  defense,  and  the  instincts  of  the  new 
generation  fit  it  as  a  rule  especially  to  its  environments. 

The  second  advantage  gained  through  reproduction  is  that 
of  relieving  the  tension  due  to  the  inertia  of  growth.  As  such 
tension  is  an  universal  characteristic  of  the  katabolic  crisis, 
its  relief  is  an  invariable  result  of  any  form  of  reproduction. 
Especially  where  the  parent  survives  the  birth  of  its  young 
do  we  find  this  advantage  representing  the  gain,  in  fact  the 
sole  gain,  of  the  parent  form.  But  whatever  be  the  immediate 
occasion  of  the  katabolic  crisis,  and  whatever  the  gain  through 
reproduction  to  the  parent  form,  it  is  evident  that  the  repro- 
duced forms  almost  always  possess  special  readjustments 
that  give  them  at  least  ultimately  a  peculiar  advantage  over 
the  parent  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Method's      53 

For  the  purpose  of  the  theory  of  education  the  most  impor-  importance 
tant  of  these  advantages  is  the  third  of  those  recounted  above      advantaged 
as  resulting  from  reproduction.     In  the  offspring  the  direction  of      of  repro- 
growth  may  be  changed  into  ways  impossible  for  the  parent  form      rejuvena-° 
to  enter.    This  change  in  the  direction  of  growth  is  accom-     t*00 
plished  for  the  most  part  through  rejuvenation.     The  part  of 
the  parent  body  that  is  segregated  is  as  yet  undifferentiated. 
It  is  replete  with  possibilities  of  growth  that  have  not  been 
utilized.     In   it,   therefore,   the   direction   of  growth   can   be 
changed  to  meet  whatever  variations  in  emergencies  the  for- 
tunes of  life  have  brought. 

It  is  probable  that  all  reproduced  forms  are  in  a  measure  Reproduc- 
rejuvenated.     Yet  it  is  evident  that  in  many  the  advantage 
of  rejuvenation  is  slight  as  compared  with  the  specific  adapta-      degree    of 
tion  that  is  gained.     The  offspring  are  protected  better,  or      tbnV& 
are  in  a  condition  favorable  for  dispersal,  or  possess  some  spe- 
cial characteristic  in  reference  to  methods  of  nutrition,  etc., 
that  are  not  capacities  to  readjust  but  rather  perfect  adjust- 
ments.    In  respect  to  these  advantages  the  offspring  are  as 
mature  as  the  parent.     They  are  not  young.    They  are  simply 
new.    They  are  not  rejuvenated  but  changed. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  forms  in  which  rejuvena- 
tion is  the  great  advantage  of  reproduction  to  the  offspring. 
While  protective  adaptations  may  exist  for  them,  the  need  for 
protection  arises  largely  from  the  fact  of  youth,  the  weakness 
of  immaturity,  and  not  especially  as  an  adjustment  to  seasonal 
or  other  environmental  change.  They  are  born  'as  they  are, 
that  the  direction  of  growth  may  be  changed  into  ways  impos- 
sible for  the  parent  form  to  enter.  They  begin  again,  and 
along  different  lines  endeavor  to  meet  the  changes  that  cannot 
be  successfully  encountered  along  ancestral  pathways.  menu  to 

It  is  plain  that  rejuvenation  constitutes  an  essentially  dif-      determi- 
ferent  method  of  readjustment  through  reproduction  than  do     changes 


54  Principles  of  Education 

the  others  we  have  considered.  Being  a  different  method,  it 
is  capable  of  coping  with  a  different  sort  of  a  situation.  Such 
readjustments  as  exist  perfected  in  the  offspring  at  birth  can 
evidently  be  adaptations  to  such  changes  only  as  occur  with 
regularity,  and  can  therefore  be,  as  it  were,  anticipated  by  the 
organism.  Periodic  changes,  whether  these  are  a  result  of 
seasonal  rhythms  or  of  those  physiological  rhythms  that  seem 
bound  up  with  the  inertia  of  growth,  are  the  only  sorts  of 
variation  that  can  be  met  by  a  form  of  readjustment  that  is 
specifically  determined  beforehand.  Natural  selection  would 
favor  and  fix  a  type  the  nature  of  which  is  to  reproduce  such 
forms  as  are  adapted  to  the  changes  that  occur  with  regularity. 
Thus  determinate  forms  of  discontinuous  growth  become  in- 
corporated in  the  heredity  of  the  species  in  order  to  adapt  it 
to  determinate  periodicities. 

Rejuvenation      On  the  other  hand,  the  specific  value  of  rejuvenation  lies  in 
ena°les  the  organism  to  meet  indeterminate,  unperiodic 


to  indeter-  changes.  It  restores  a  capacity  for  growth  lost  by  the  parent 
changes  organism  as  a  result  of  differentiation.  The  result  is  that  the 
reproduced  form  may  seek  its  adaptation  in  ways  quite  dif- 
ferent from  those  developed  in  the  parent,  and  in  consequence 
it  is  hi  a  better  position  to  encounter  situations  that  never  be- 
fore have  confronted  the  species.  Whenever  the  lines  of 
growth  that  have  become  defined  in  the  parent  are  inadequate 
to  new  emergencies,  reproduction  is  necessary.  Whenever 
these  emergencies  are  of  such  a  nature  that  they  cannot  be 
anticipated  by  the  heredity  of  the  species,  the  reproduced  form 
can  gam  no  advantage  from  any  adaptation  save  a  rejuvena- 
tion that  is  in  some  way  associated  with  a  restoration  of  its 
capacity  for  growth. 

We  are  here  not  using  the  term,  rejuvenation,  as  meaning 
the  restoration  of  any  earlier  form  of  the  organism,  but  rather 
as  the  restoration  of  an  earlier  capacity  to  become  adjusted. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      55 

That  the  stage  represented  by  a  reproduced  form  occurred 
earlier  in  the  life  of  the  parent  does  not  mean  that  it  is  entitled 
to  be  called  youthful.  Reproductive  adaptations  to  periodic 
changes  involve  revivals  of  earlier  stages  in  the  life  of  the 
individual,  but  in  so  far  as  these  adjustments  are  adequate  to 
the  preservation  of  the  life  of  the  new-born,  they  are  not  indi- 
cations of  youth  but  of  maturity.  The  earliest  stage  hi  the  life 
history  of  an  individual  is,  doubtless,  as  a  rule  the  least  dif- 
ferentiated and  the  most  juvenile,  yet  there  are  many  life 
histories  in  which  this  fact  is  not  so  much  in  evidence  as  are  the 
specific  adaptations  by  which  the  reproduced  forms  are  able  to 
maintain  themselves  independently  of  parental  help.  Hence 
the  new-born  are  not  of  necessity  youthful,  and  in  many  such 
forms  rejuvenation  is  not  apparent.  It  develops  and  becomes 
a  striking  characteristic  of  the  early  stage  in  the  life  of  such 
organisms  as  dwell  in  the  midst  of  variations  so  indeterminate 
that  they  cannot  be  anticipated  in  the  hereditary  tendencies 
of  the  species. 

If  we  reflect  on  what  has  been  said  about  the  variability  of  Rejuvena- 
the  emergencies  that  higher  orders  of  life  are  compelled  to  face,      ^  e?^ 
it  is  evident  that  with  them  adaptation  through  rejuvenation      portant  to 
would    become   more   and   more   necessary.     The   rhythmic     species  ° 
changes  of  the  seasons  become  less  and  less  occasions  for 
katabolic   crises   in    the   life   of   the   individual.     Migration, 
society,  artificial  conditions  of  life,  all  nullify  their  revolution- 
ary effect.     But  these  higher  environments  involve,  as  we  have 
seen,  not  less  but  more  variability.     Moreover,  this  variability 
is  increasingly  indeterminate.     Man  can,  indeed,  say  of  his 
life  that  it  is  far  more  secure  than  is  that  of  lower  orders,  but 
not  that  it  is  one  in  which  he  can  predict  the  exact  character 
of  the  emergencies  of  the  morrow  with  anything  like  the  same 
certainty.     He  wants  so  many  more  things,  and  his  ways  of 
getting  them  are  so  numerous  and  change  with  such  rapidity 


56  Principles  of  Education 

from  generation  to  generation.  It  follows  that  with  him,  and, 
indeed,  with  all  the  higher  orders,  rejuvenation  is  the  leading 
if  not  the  sole  advantage  that  is  enjoyed  by  the  reproduced 
form. 

Variation  as        It  may  be  objected  that  with  the  higher  orders  as  well  as 
^JutSo~      the  lower  ones  a  very  important  gain  from  reproduction  is 
indetenni-     found  in  the  variations  that  new  generations  display.     Among 
these  may  be  found  characters  that  render  their  possessors 
far  better  adapted  to  the  existing  conditions  of  life  than  were 
their  ancestors.     Thus  reproduction  can  adjust  to  indetermi- 
Especiai          nate  change  in  other  ways  than  by  rejuvenation.     On  the  other 
variation      hand,  it  is  evident  that  with  the  higher  orders  the  variations 
toward  ca-   that  natural  selection  favors  are  more  and  more   those  asso- 
leam  dated  with  capacity  to  learn,  intelligence.     Now  it  is  for  the 

sake  of  this  power  especially  that  rejuvenation  exists.  It  is 
hard  to  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks  or  for  the  skilled  workman 
to  survive  changes  in  machinery,  or  for  the  newly  rich  to  assume 
the  habits  of  those  who  are  "to  the  manner  born,"  or  for  the 
old  fogy  to  remain  efficient  when  life  takes  on  new  issues  and 
demands  new  methods.  Wherever  readjustment  that  conflicts 
with  existing  habits  of  thought  and  action  is  necessary,  there 
some  sort  of  rejuvenation  is  the  only  resource,  and  that  com- 
prehensive rejuvenation  that  comes  with  the  birth  of  a  new 
generation  becomes  most  helpful. 

Adaptation  A  comparison  of  life  cycles  of  organisms  for  which  reproduc- 
minate  tion  yields  definite  adaptations  with  those  of  species  where  it 
SIT  life  is  lar&ely  rejuvenation  yields  a  striking  contrast.  A  life  cycle 
cycles  of  is  a  succession  of  stages  in  the  life  history  of  an  individual 
or  sPecies,  at  the  end  of  which  the  initial  stage  recurs  and  the 
cycle  is  again  repeated.  The  resumption  of  the  initial  stage  of 
the  cycle  is,  of  course,  always  by  reproduction.  But  with 
species  where  reproduction  finds  its  especial  value  in  effecting 
determinate  adjustment  we  may  find  an  elaborate  life  cycle, 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      57 

each  transition  in  which  is  brought  about  by  discontinuous 
growth.  The  two  typical  forms  of  such  life  cycle  are  meta- 
morphosis and  alternation  of  generations.  Wherever  one  in- 
dividual assumes  in  succession  a  number  of  forms  apparently 
utterly  distinct  in  appearance  and  mode  of  life,  we  have  meta- 
morphosis. Whenever  at  each  transition  the  parent  form  gives 
rise  to  a  number  of  individuals  of  the  new  form,  we  have  alter- 
nation of  generations. 

Alternation  of  generations  occurs  in  nearly  all  species  of  (a)  Aitema- 
plants  and  in  very  many  species  of  animals.  In  the  ordinary  erationfaji 
jellyfish  we  have  as  a  first  stage  a  sessile  form,  that  grows  under  examPle 
favorable  conditions,  finally  giving  off  in  succession  a  number 
of  buds  that  become  free-swimming  jellyfish.  These  even- 
tually produce  offspring  in  the  form  of  fertilized  ova,  that 
become  attached  to  some  object,  and  the  series  is  again  repeated. 
Such  an  alternation  between  free-swimming  and  sessile  forms 
undoubtedly  provides  the  best  adjustment  for  the  species. 
The  sessile  form  is  adapted  to  take  advantage  of  abundant 
food  supply  in  a  certain  locality.  It  grows  until  its  powers  of 
sustentation  are  taxed.  Thereupon  it  buds,  and  the  free- 
swimming  forms  thus  given  off  can  seek  other  environments 
removed  from  the  competition  of  the  parents,  in  this  manner 
providing  a  wider  range  of  food  supply  for  themselves  and 
insuring  the  dispersal  of  the  species. 

In  the  remarkable  case  of  the  liver  fluke  there  may  be  dis-  The  liver 
tinguished  seven  stages  in  development  through  the' life  cycle,      niJtrating 
as  follows  :    (i)  Eggs  in  the  alimentary  canal  of  the  sheep.      alternation 
These  are  expelled  from  the  body.     (2)  From  them  are  hatched      tions 
minute  ciliated  organisms  that  may  pass  into  the  bodies  of 
water  snails  as  parasites.     (3)  Here  they  become  encysted. 

(4)  From  each  cyst  a  number  of  minute  organisms  called  rediae 
appear.     These   feed  on   the  digestive  organs  of  the  snail. 

(5)  They  reproduce,  and  among  the  offspring  are  organisms 


58  Principles  of  Education 

that  pass  out  of  the  body  of  the  water  snail  and  swim  about. 
(6)  They  leave  the  water  and  become  encysted  on  .blades  of 
grass.  These  are  eaten  by  sheep.  (7)  Being  hatched  out, 
they  become  parasites  upon  the  liver  of  that  animal.  Here 
we  have  a  most  elaborate  series  of  changes,  the  sum  of  which 
makes  possible  a  very  successful  life  history  on  the  part  of  the 
species  in  question.  We  have  primarily  a  set  of  adaptations 
that  enable  the  substitution  of  one  host  for  another,  so  that  the 
species  may  survive  the  death  of  either,  an  event  quite  likely 
to  happen  because  of  the  havoc  wrought  by  the  parasite  itself. 
We  have  all  the  apparatus  of  encysted  forms  and  of  ciliate 
free-swimming  forms  that  enables  preservation  in  unfavorable 
conditions  and  dispersal.  In  short,  we  have  well  represented 
those  devices  by  which  successive,  inevitable,  and  periodic 
crises  in  the  life  processes  of  an  organism  can  be  met. 
(6)  Metamor-  The  more  familiar  life  cycle  of  metamorphosis  illustrates  the 
same  sort  °f  readjustment.  The  egg,  the  larva,  the  cocoon, 


of  discon-  and  the  butterfly  are  as  different  as  different  species,  yet  they 
growth  are  all  in  a  sense  the  same  individual,  which,  as  it  were,  repro- 
duces itself,  or  suffers  discontinuous  growth  at  each  crisis  in 
its  history.  Indeed  we  might  speak  of  the  transformation  as 
an  alternation  of  generations  where  the  reproduction  is  asexual 
and  the  offspring  a  single  individual.  Each  stage  in  the  meta- 
morphosis illustrates  a  readjustment  to  conditions  that  can 
definitely  be  anticipated  by  heredity.  The  eggs  are  protected 
against  unfavorable  conditions,  but  as  a  rule  are  deposited 
where  with  the  recurrence  of  spring  the  food  supply  will  be 
good.  The  larva  represents  a  stage  well  fitted  for  taking 
advantage  of  abundant  food,  favorable  weather,  etc.  When, 
replete  with  nourishment,  it  finds  the  food  supply  growing 
scanty,  it  assumes  the  protected  form  of  the  cocoon,  from 
thence  to  emerge  as  the  imago,  winged  for  flight  to  favorable 
places  for  the  deposition  of  its  eggs. 


Readjiistment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      59 


When  we  contrast  with  these  transformations  the  life  cycle 
of  an  organism  where  reproduction  finds  its  principal  function 
in  rejuvenation,  we  note  a  marked  difference.  The  character- 
istic stages  in  the  life  history  of  such  a  creature  are  infancy, 
maturity,  and  old  age.  Here  each  stage  is  not  an  adapted 
stage,  for  infancy  is  characterized  by  lack  of  differentiation  or 
adaptation,  by  immaturity.  Again,  each  stage  is  not  a  result 
of  discontinuous  growth,  for  maturity  is  the  product  of  the 
continuous  development  that  goes  on  during  the  period  of 
infancy.  In  metamorphosis  the  specific  experience  of  the 
individual  in  an  earlier  stage  does  not  determine  its  character- 
istic structure  or  peculiarities  when  transformed.  As  in  all 
cases  of  discontinuous  growth,  the  nature  of  the  reproduced 
form  is  determined  by  heredity,  and  the  experience  of  the  parent 
form  counts  only  through  the  general  effect  of  good  or  bad 
nourishment,  presence  or  absence  of  diseased  tissue,  etc. 
Continuity  from  one  stage  to  another  in  the  development  of 
the  individual  is,  of  course,  an  indispensable  condition  for 
readjustment  to  indeterminate  changes  through  rejuvenation. 

To  sum  up  the  discussion  of  this  section,  we  may  say  that 
although  all  education  is  readjustment,  it  is  not  true  that  all 
readjustment  is,  properly  speaking,  education,  for  frequently 
this  result  is  accomplished  by  a  process  of  discontinuous  growth. 
Discontinuous  growth  is,  unless  we  except  the  case  of  meta- 
morphosis, identical  with  reproduction.  It  occurs  at  a  kata- 
bolic  crisis,  or  a  period  in  the  life  of  the  organism  when  the 
destructive  processes  outrun  those  of  building  up,  and  the 
balance  cannot  be  restored  by  continuous  growth  along  pre- 
vailing lines.  A  katabolic  crisis  usually  springs  from  the  co- 
operation of  revolutionary  changes  in  the  environment  with 
the  maladjustment  due  to  the  inertia  of  growth,  although  either 
one  or  the  other  cause  may  be  the  dominant  factor.  Repro- 
duction may  result  in  the  relief  of  the  tension  in  the  parent 


The  life  cycle 
of  continu- 
ous growth 
as  illustrat- 
ing adapta- 
tion to  in- 
determi- 
nate 
changes 


Summary 


60  Principles  of  Education 

organism,  thus  insuring  for  it  at  least  a  temporary  lease  on 
life.  The  main  advantage  appears,  however,  in  the  reproduced 
forms,  which  are  either  readjusted  forms  or  well  suited  to 
become  so  by  continuous  growth. 

The  specific  readjustments  effected  by  reproduction  are  seen 
in  means  of  protection  or  of  dispersal,  in  adaptation  to  food 
supply,  etc.  Such  adjustments  may  occur  in  a  periodic  series, 
thus  giving  rise  to  a  life  cycle  of  discontinuous  growth,  such 
as  is  found  in  alternation  of  generations  or  metamorphosis. 
These  cycles  adapt  to  determinate  periodic  changes  in  environ- 
mental conditions  or  inner  growth,  and  hence  to  crises  that 
can  be  met  by  hereditary  provision  for  specific  forms  of  dis- 
continuous growth.  On  the  other  hand,  where  the  variations 
in  the  conditions  of  life  occur  in  nonperiodic  indeterminate 
ways,  there  the  only  advantage  that  can  be  gained  by  a  repro- 
duced form  is  that  of  rejuvenation,  or  the  restoration  of  an 
earlier,  less  differentiated  state  in  the  life  of  the  organism. 
From  such  a  state  a  readjustment  by  continuous  growth 
impossible  for  the  parent  form  can  be  effected  in  the  young. 

The  higher  organisms  live  in  environments  relatively  free 
from  the  revolutionary  influence  of  specific  periodic  changes. 
Hence  specific  readjustment  by  reproduction,  except  by  relief 
of  tension  in  the  parent  organism,  is  not  characteristic  of  them 
to  any  marked  degree.  So,  too,  they  do  not  show  much  evi- 
dence of  the  life  cycle  of  discontinuous  growth.  On  the  other 
hand,  their  environments  are  exceedingly  and  indeterminately 
variable.  Hence  it  is  important  that  they  should  possess 
much  power  of  continuous  growth,  and  at  the  same  time  show 
in  their  reproduced  forms  a  corresponding  degree  of  rejuvena- 
tion. Only  by  the  former  power  can  the  organism  secure 
adaptation  to  its  conditions.  Only  by  the  latter  provision 
can  the  species  effect  readjustment  to  conditions  that  cannot 
be  met  along  the  prevailing  lines  of  continuous  growth.  The 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      61 

higher  organisms,  therefore,  possess  a  life  cycle  characterized 
by  continuous  growth,  the  first  stage  of  which  is  that  of  infancy. 
In  fine,  having  said  at  the  conclusion  of  the  two  preceding  sec- 
tions that  the  higher  environments  are  more'  variable  and  hence 
require  of  their  inhabitants  greater  power  of  readjustment, 
we  may  now  add  that,  since  these  variations  grow  increasingly 
indeterminate,  the  method  of  readjustment  comes  more  and 
more  to  be  through  rejuvenation  and  education. 

SECTION  7.    The  theory  of  infancy 

The  theory  of  infancy  has  come  to  be  recognized  as  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  theory  of  education.  It  is  probably  just  to 
say  that  this  is  due  to  the  discussions  of  John  Fiske  and  Presi- 
dent Butler.  The  former  says:  — 

"But  this  steady  increase  in  intelligence,  as  our  forefathers  Fiske  on  the 
began  to  become  human,  carried  with  it  a  steady  prolongation 
of  infancy.  As  mental  life  became  more  complex  and  various, 
as  the  things  to  be  learned  kept  ever  multiplying,  less  and  less 
could  be  done  before  birth,  more  and  more  must  be  left  to  be 
done  in  the  earlier  years  of  life.  So  instead  of  being  born  with 
a  few  capacities  thoroughly  organized,  man  came  at  last  to 
be  born  with  the  germs  of  many  complex  capacities  which 
were  reserved  to  be  unfolded  and  enhanced  or  checked  and 
stifled  by  the  incidents  of  personal  experience  in  each  indi- 
vidual. In  this  simple  yet  wonderful  way  there  has  been 
provided  for  man  a  long  period  during  which  his  mind  is 
plastic  and  malleable,  and  the  length  of  the  period  has  in- 
creased with  civilization  until  it  now  covers  nearly  one  third 
of  our  lives.  It  is  not  that  our  inherited  tendencies  and 
adaptations  are  not  still  the  main  thing.  It  is  only  that  we 
have  at  last  acquired  great  power  to  modify  them  by  training 
so  that  progress  may  go  on  with  ever  increasing  sureness  and 
rapidity."  1 

1  Excursions  of  an  Evolutionist,  pp.  315-316. 


62 


Principles  of  Education 


Fiske  im- 
plies that 
infancy  is  a 
positive 
basis  for 
learning 


Real  value 
of  infancy 
negative, 
consisting 
in  remov- 
ing ob- 
structive 
adjust- 
ments 


A  careful  reading  of  this  extract  will  reveal  some  confusion 
in  the  mind  of  its  author  as  to  the  specific  function  of  infancy. 
It  is  assumed  that  its  value  lies  in  enabling  us  to  learn  many 
things,  to  become  adapted  to  a  very  complex  environment. 
Since  heredity  cannot  give  us  such  a  complex  adjustment  in  a 
perfected  form,  Mr.  Fiske  thinks,  we  are  given  hereditary 
tendencies  to  be  "unfolded  and  enhanced  or  checked  and 
stifled."  Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  heredity  cannot  transmit  in  the  greatest  profusion  special 
adjustments.  The  only  bar  to  such  provision  lies  in  the  fact 
that  they  might  not  be  the  right  ones.  Mr.  Fiske  vaguely 
recognizes  this  in  suggesting  that  the  hereditary  tendencies 
are  to  be  modified  "by  the  incidents  of  personal  experience  in 
each  individual,"  yet  in  giving  the  reason  for  this  arrangement 
he  emphasizes  the  number  and  variety  of  things  to  be  learned, 
and  not  their  variability  from  age  to  age.  If  it  were  not  for 
this  indeterminate  variability,  there  is  no  reason  why  the  organ- 
ism should  not  be  perfectly  adapted  at  birth,  and,  indeed,  we 
have  seen  that  in  such  respects  as  can  be  specifically  antici- 
pated the  reproduced  form  is  usually  better  adjusted  than  the 
parent  one. 

Since  infancy  means  immaturity,  its  primary  value  lies  not 
in  what  it  enables  us  to  do,  but  in  what  it  permits  us  to  avoid. 
Immaturity  does  not  mean  power  to  learn  many  things,  nor 
even  anything.  It  means  merely  the  absence  of  that  which 
will  prevent  learning  many  things.  Infancy  does  not  signify  in- 
telligence, for  idiots  can  betray  an  immaturity  from  which  they 
never  escape.  It  is  true  that  without  the  need  of  readjustment 
that  helpless  infancy  especially  involves,  intelligence  would 
have  no  utility  and  hence  no  opportunity  by  which  it  may 
be  evoked  into  being.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  contra- 
diction between  intelligence  and  a  fairly  mature  adjustment. 
It  is  only  when  readjustment  cannot  be  effected  without  a 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      63 

revolutionary  change  in  methods  of  thinking  or  acting  that 
rejuvenation  becomes  valuable.  In  so  far  as  readjustment  can 
proceed  continuously  along  the  lines  of  earlier  mental  and  motor 
growth  the  recurrence  of  the  earlier,  undifferentiated  state  is  a 
positive  loss.  It  is  because  intelligence  and  habit  get  into 
ways  from  which  there  is  no  exit  when  changed  conditions 
demand  further  progress  that  infancy  becomes  desirable. 
It  is  possible  to  conceive  of  methods  of  thinking  and  doing 
so  soundly  selected,  and  of  intelligence  so  comprehensively 
equipped,  that  there  could  be  for  them  no  radical  change  in 
emergencies.  To  a  species  thus  endowed  rejuvenation  would 
have  lost  its  utility. 

If,  then,  infancy  is  a  merely  negative  condition  of  power  to  Positive  basis 
learn,  what  are  the  positive  grounds  of  this  capacity?    It  is 


evident  that  they  are  not  to  be  found  in  lack  of  differentiation,      in  definite, 

.,..,  1*1  ••          /••  •  though  un- 

for  this  involves  nothing  beyond  the  negativity  of  immaturity,      developed 

That  vague  term,  plasticity,  must  imply  some  positive  qualities, 

as  well  as  that  of  being  at  present  amorphous.     Some  light  will     tions 

be  thrown  upon  the  nature  of  these  capacities  for  growth  by 

considering  the  physiological  mechanism  that  lies  back  of  the 

fact  of  infancy.     It  will  be  seen  that  this  mechanism  is  a  curious 

combination  of  both  differentiation  and  its  absence,  of  the  posi- 

tive and  definite  structure  and  powers  of  maturity  deprived 

of  just  that  specific  coordination  and  maturation  which  is 

necessary  in  order  that  they  should  function  efficiently. 

In  general,  infancy  involves  a  wholesale  rejuvenation  of  the  The  deveiop- 
tissues  of  the  body.     Beginning  in  very  primitive  forms,  the      ™e° 


cells  grow,  multiply,  and  differentiate  until  the  mature  form  is     p^y  pro- 
attained.    For  the  most  part  this  process  is  controlled  by      and  partly 


heredity.     In  so  far  as  it  is  useful  for  the  species  that  this      ^P03^  to 

J  p  '  e          educative 

hereditary  control  should  dominate,  the  rejuvenated  form  is      influences 
ordinarily  protected  against  such  external  influences  as  would 
modify  or  check  its  inherent  method  of  development.     On 


64  Principles  of  Education 

the  other  hand,  wherever  it  becomes  desirable,  in  view  of  the 
likelihood  of  variations  in  conditions  of  life,  that  the  organism 
should  be  able  to  develop  forms  and  functions  different  from 
those  of  its  ancestors,  there  exposure  to  external  influences 
before  the  functions  in  question  have  become  mature  is  not 
only  permitted  but  provided  for.  Thus  we  find  that  such 
powers  as  are  designed  to  be  affected  by  education  have  their 
maturation  deferred  until  after  birth,  or,  perhaps,  the  mere 
hereditary  tendencies  of  the  organism  can  never  without  the 
cooperation  of  use  and  training  bring  these  powers  to  a  spe- 
cifically useful  state. 

nfancy  de-  Thus  infancy  involves  on  the  one  hand  the  deferred  and  on 
^thfdT-  tlie  other  the  imperfect  instinct.  By  a  deferred  instinct  is 
fernng  of  meant  one  the  physiological  foundations  of  which  do  not  ripen 
until  some  time  after  the  individual  has  begun  life  in  contact 
with  environmental  conditions  similar  to  those  in  which  the 
'  instinct  will  function.  In  case  such  an  instinct  is  necessary 
for  mature  adjustment,  its  deferring  means  the  infancy  of  the 
organism.  The  most  striking  illustration  of  such  deferring  is 
that  of  the  reproductive  instinct.  Although  this  instinct  is 
not  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  the  life  of  the  individual, 
the  fact  that  it  is  deferred  exposes  it  to  the  culturing  influence 
of  surroundings,  just  as  much  as  though  its  non-appearance 
involved  a  genuine  infancy.  Indeed,  there  are  many  phases 
of  the  life  of  adolescence,  such  as  enhanced  sympathy,  sense 
of  responsibility,  etc.,  which  are  closely  interwoven  with  the 
ripening  of  the  mating  instinct,  and  are,  we  may  properly  say, 
necessary  to  mature  adjustment  to  the  social  life  of  man.  In 
so  far,  then,  the  deferring  of  this  instinct  may  be  said  to  involve 
genuine  infancy,  as  well  as  to  permit  the  modifying  influence  of 
education, 
and  (6)  in-  Very  clear  cases  of  infancy  because  of  the  deferring  of  the 

StmCtlVe  11  r  l  r  1    .  n 

acts  development  of  native  powers  may  be  found  in  the  instinctive 


Readjustment^  its  Conditions  and  Methods      65 

acts.      In    the    following    discussions   a   distinction    will   be  Distinction 
made  between  these  and  the  instincts.     The  instincts  are  the 


functions  of  the  organism  considered  from  the  point  of  view     andinstinc- 

of  the  needs  that  they  supply.     Most  lists  of  instincts  are 

selected  according  to  this  conception,  as  the  feeding  instinct, 

the  instinct  of  fear,  of  sociability,  of  acquisitiveness,  of  curios- 

ity.    On  the  other  hand,  the  instinctive  act  is  a  complex  of 

movements  that  constitutes  an  hereditarily  preferred  method 

of  carrying  out  one  or  many  instincts.     Crying,  for  example,  is 

an  instinctive  act,  and  it  may  be  resorted  to  as  a  means  of 

satisfying  the  instinct  of  hunger,  that  of  fear,  that  of  sociability, 

and,  indeed,  almost  any  instinct  that  appears  during  the  period 

when  this  type  of  activity  prevails.     Just  as  one  instinctive 

act  may  be  utilized  by  many  instincts,  so  one  instinct  may 

function  by  means  of  a  variety  of  types  of  instinctive  or  habit- 

ual activity.     Thus  the  instinct  of  fear  may  lead  to  a  resort 

to  the  instinctive  acts  of  crouching,  lying  still,  or  hiding,  or  that 

of  flight,  or  in  extreme  cases,  perhaps,  that  of  desperate  fighting. 

Now  the  instinctive  acts  are  fitted  to  the  instincts  to  which  Physiological 
they  constitute  hereditarily  preferred  expressions  by  coordi-  o°nthe10ma- 
nations  in  the  nervous  system.  Those  parts  the  tension  of  turadon  of 

..,.,  .  .  .......  instincts 

which  involves  the  sense  of  want  associated  with  the  instinct  andinstinc- 
are  thus  brought  into  connection  with  the  muscles  through  which  tlve  acts 
the  instinctive  act  is  performed.  The  maturation  of  the  parts 
concerned  in  producing  the  tensions  in  question  causes  the 
corresponding  instincts  to  emerge.  The  ripening  of  the  nervous 
connections  by  which  a  certain  group  of  movements  is  made  to 
coordinate  harmoniously  to  secure  specific  results  means  the 
maturation  of  an  instinctive  act,  and  this  process  ordinarily 
involves  the  association  of  the  group  of  movements  with  one 
or  more  instincts,  to  which,  in  consequence,  it  constitutes  a 
preferential  response. 

A  good  illustration  of  a  deferred  instinctive  act  is  that  of 


66  Principles  of  Education 

Walking  a  walking.  Very  early  in  its  life  the  child  moves  its  legs  in  ways 
deferred  anticipatory  of  the  perfected  coordination.  Nevertheless, 

instinctive  J 

act  the  actual  perfection  of  the  instinctive  tendency  is  invariably 

delayed  until  the  child  is  nearly  a  year  old,  and  sometimes 
much  longer.  Usually  the  child  learns  to  walk;  that  is, 
on  the  basis  of  an  instinctive  tendency  as  yet  immature,  it 
builds  by  experience  certain  habits  that  perfect  the  coordina- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  certain  cases  cited  by  Kirkpatrick  : 
indicate  that  children,  who  through  some  peculiarity  of  mind 
or  body  have  refused  to  attempt  either  to  stand  or  walk  until 
much  beyond  the  usual  age,  may  suddenly  and  without  prac- 
tice of  any  sort  perform  these  acts  in  a  comparatively  mature 
fashion.  It  follows  that  walking  is  not,  as  would  seem  from 
most  children,  an  imperfect  instinctive  act,  —  that  is,  one  that 
cannot  be  perfected  by  heredity  alone,  —  but  rather  one  that 
is  merely  deferred. 

infancy  de-  But  if  the  deferring  of  instincts  or  instinctive  acts  usually 
oITthfim"  involves  infancy  until  the  hereditary  tendencies  have  fully 
perfection  asserted  themselves,  even  more  does  the  lack  of  perfection 

of  instincts    •        ,.r        -.,•,•  -i  i     • 

andinstinc-  m  tne  instinctive  tendency  bring  immaturity  conspicuously 
tive  acts  before  the  attention.  For  a  deferred  instinctive  act  may  ap- 
pear about  as  soon  as  it  is  needed,  thus  leaving  no  marked 
gap  of  maladjustment,  whereas  an  imperfect  one  necessarily 
involves  a  period  of  learning,  when  the  individual  cannot  do 
what  is  needed,  and  is,  in  consequence,  immature,  infantile. 
Both  instincts  and  instinctive  acts  may  be  looked  upon  as 
imperfect,  although  this  quality  is  more  in  evidence  in  the 
latter.  An  instinct  may  be  imperfect  through  lack  of  defini- 
tion of  its  wants  until  these  have  gained  direction  through 
experiment  and  experience.  The  instinctive  act  may  require 
further  additions  and  reorganization  by  experimentation  be- 
fore it  can  function  effectively. 

1  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study,  pp.  80-81. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      67 


When  we  compare  the  lower  and  higher  animals,  we  note  A  rich  equip- 


ment of  im- 
perfect he- 
reditary 
tendencies 
the  basis  of 
power  to 
learn 


especially  the  imperfection  of  the  instinctive  equipment  of  the 
latter.  So  great  is  this  that  it  is  a  commonplace  to  speak  of 
man  as  having  not  instincts  but  reason.  Professor  James  l 
has  in  his  usual  striking  way  pointed  out  both  this  error  and 
its  occasion  by  showing  that  man  has  not  fewer  but  many  more 
instincts  than  any  other  animal,  but  that  these  instincts  are 
more  vague,  more  imperfect,  more  likely  to  conflict  with  each 
other  and  to  be  modified  or  suppressed  as  a  result  of  experience. 
Thus  the  immaturity  involved  in  the  human  infant  is  brought 
about  in  such  a  way  as  to  preserve  all  the  specific  forms  of 
adjustment  that  are  characteristic  of  the  species.  They  remain 
as  hereditary  tendencies  upon  which  the  process  of  reconstruction 
can  proceed,  making  such  reorganizations  as  experience  suggests. 
Here,  then,  we  find  the  positive  basis  of  power  to  learn. 

The  physiological  mechanism  by  which  the  instinctive 
tendencies  are  utilized  as  material  for  readjustment  is  in  the 
higher  vertebrates  that  of  inter-segmental  nervous  connections. 
Of  these  Professor  Donaldson  says  :  — 

"Among  the  higher  vertebrates  the  principal  sense  organs  inter-seg- 
located  exclusively  in  the  head  assume  a  greater  relative  im- 
portance, and  the  reactions  of  the  entire  organism  become  more 
and  more  subject  to  them.  This  depends  upon  the  fact  that 
the  various  centers  distributed  through  the  spinal  cord  becorne 
connected  with  the  cells  lying  at  the  head  end  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  be  somewhat  controlled  by  them.  These  connections 
are  mediated  by  bundles  of  fibers,  which,  traversing  as  they 
do  the  length  of  the  cord,  disturb  the  segmental  arrangement. 
Moreover,  the  great  development  of  nerve  elements  in  the  cord 
at  the  regions  where  the  nerves  controlling  the  limbs  are  given 
off  causes  a  very  considerable  enlargement,  extending  through 
a  number  of  primitive  segments.  As  a  result  of  all  these  modi- 
fications, the  primitive  segmental  character  of  the  medullary 
tube  is  much  obscured  in  man."  2 


mental  con- 
tinuity in 
central 


1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXIV. 


The  Growth  of  the  Brain,  p.  188. 


68 


Principles  of  Education 


Resulting 
power  of 
readjust- 
ing reac- 
tions to 
stimuli 


Immaturity 
due  to  the 
diffusion 
of  impulses 


This  inter-segmental  continuity  means  that  any  given  sense 
organ  may  rouse  the  activity  of  any  group  of  muscles  in  the 
body.  Thus  if  one  response  fails  to  meet  the  situation  in  a 
satisfactory  way,  another  may  be  resorted  to.  Here  we  have 
readjustment  by  the  use  of  another  than  the  hereditarily  pre- 
ferred response  when  the  latter  fails.  Moreover,  the  inter- 
segmental  connections  make  possible  a  readier  combination  of 
movements  of  different  parts  of  the  body  to  effect  a  satisfac- 
tory adjustment.  Finally  and  especially,  since  the  senses, 
and  particularly  the  higher  senses,  involve  adjustment  to  stim- 
uli the  significance  of  which  varies  with  time  and  circumstances, 
that  welding  together  through  the  central  nerves  of  different 
parts  of  the  body  by  which  these  senses  are  put  in  control  must 
be  accompanied  by  some  loss  of  preferential  associations  between 
stimuli  and  responses.  Ability  to  readjust  quickly  means  that 
certain  connections  can  quickly  be  abandoned  and  others 
tried.  As  the  development  of  central  connections  makes 
the  nervous  system  more  and  more  a  unity,  the  inherent  lines 
of  connection  lose  more  and  more  their  tyranny  of  control. 

The  concentration  of  nervous  impulses  along  specific  lines 
that  lead  to  definitely  adaptive  action  means  maturity.  The 
diffusion  of  these  impulses  means  immaturity.  The  more 
variable  the  conditions  the  organism  is  adapted  to  meet,  the 
greater  must  be  the  tendency  for  nervous  impulses  to  be  re- 
leased from  the  domination  of  heredity  in  regard  to  the  paths 
they  pursue,  and  to  diffuse  readily  into  many  paths.  Com- 
plexity of  nervous  interconnections  thus  involves  a  sort  of 
democratic  equality  among  them,  an  initial  equality  which  is 
replaced  by  such  preferential  arrangements  as  experience  may 
determine.  Thus  we  have  the  imperfect  instinct  in  order  that 
the  ultimate  adjustments  of  the  individual  may  be  more  largely 
habits  acquired  by  himself,  and  not  so  much  the  mere  redupli- 
cation of  the  instinctive  methods  of  his  ancestors. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods      69 


This  primitive  tendency  toward  diffusion  becomes  especially 
evident  in  man  because  of  the  enormous  development  in  him  of 
cerebral  control.  Quoting  again  from  Professor  Donaldson:  - 

"The  study  of  the  lower  vertebrates  after  injury  to  the  dif- 
ferent divisions  of  the  central  nervous  system  shows  that  in 
those  forms  in  which  cephalization  is  but  little  advanced  the 
primary  centers  of  the  cranial  nerves  when  alone  present  may 
assume  a  guiding  control  over  the  remainder  of  the  system. 
It  thus  follows  that  a  frog  after  loss  of  the  cerebral  hemi- 
spheres can  still  direct  its  jumping  movements  so  as  to  avoid 
a  visible  obstacle  in  its  path  ;  in  other  words,  impressions 
reach  the  central  nervous  system  of  such  a  frog  through  its 
eyes,  and  these  impressions  influence  the  reactions  of  the  mus- 
cles of  the  hind  legs  despite  the  absence  of  the  hemispheres. 
In  man,  on  the  other  hand,  the  parts  of  the  brain  corresponding 
to  the  optic  lobes  of  the  frog  do  not  represent  a  locality  in  which 
such  connections  are  established,  so  that  in  him  the  hemi- 
spheres alone  do  the  work  which  in  the  less  specialized  form 
may  be  performed  by  the  lower  centers.  In  this  connection 
we  naturally  inquire  how  the  cerebral  hemispheres  may  have 
acquired  in  the  higher  vertebrates  capabilities  which  belong 
to  them  in  a  less  and  less  degree  as  we  descend  from  man 
through  the  zoological  scale.  In  the  higher  forms  it  appears 
that  incoming  impulses,  instead  of  passing  over  in  the  primary 
centers  to  cells  which  discharge  downwards,  pass  to  a  group  of 
afferent  central  cells  which  carry  impulses  to  the  cortex,  that 
with  the  reorganization  of  this  second  pathway  the  first  be-: 
comes  less  possible,  and  thus  the  function  is  transferred, 
though  the  causes  determining  the  growth  of  the  central  cells 
on  which  the  change  depends  are  still  obscure."  * 

However  obscure  the  cause,  the  value  of  the  change  is  ap- 
parent. For  the  cerebrum  is  the  great  center  of  universal 
interconnections  between  sense  organs  and  muscles.  More- 
over, all  these  connections  have  to  a  great  degree  that  initial 
equality  which  is  the  parent  of  diffusion,  immaturity,  and  the 

1  The  Growth  of  the  Brain,  pp.  254-255. 


Cerebral  con- 
trol as  a 
cause  of 
diffusion . 
of  impulses 
and    hence 
of  infancy 
and    of 
power   to 
learn 


70  Principles  of  Education 

need  and  power  of  learning.  The  animal  that  controls  his 
body  almost  entirely  by  his  brain  must,  therefore,  learn  to 
control  it.  We  know  now  that  the  wriggling  of  the  child  is 
due  not  so  much  to  superabundant  vitality,  as  to  diffusion  of 
nervous  currents,  lack  of  coordination.  Hence  its  instinctive 
tendencies  are  vague  and  imperfect,  and  in  so  far  as  they  are 
deferred  they  may  be  anticipated  by  habits  that  may  not  only 
modify  them,  but  actually  check  them  or  prevent  their  ap- 
pearance.1 

Summary  To  summarize  this  section,  we  note  that  the  advantage  of 

infancy  lies  not  in  that  it  enables  adjustment  to  many  things, 
but  in  that  it  paves  the  way  for  readjustment  when  conditions 
change  radically,  as  they  do  in  the  higher  environments.  In 
itself  infancy  means  immaturity,  a  negation,  and  as  such  it 
does  not  involve  capacity  to  learn.  This  positive  power  is, 
however,  dependent  in  great  measure  upon  the  physiological 
mechanism  that  has  given  rise  to  and  prolonged  infancy.  The 
rejuvenation  in  the  young  of  the  higher  species  is  not  merely 
a  return  to  an  undifferentiated  form.  It  is  that  plus  an  heredi- 
tary tendency  that  enables  rapid  development  of  mature 
adjustments  like  those  of  the  parent.  In  so  far  as  it  is  in  gen- 
eral well  that  the  young  should  be  like  the  parent,  the  infant 
organism  is  usually  protected,  so  that  the  hereditary  tendency 
can  alone  determine  its  development.  Whenever,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  likely  that  a  change  of  adjustment  will  prove 
desirable  in  the  young,  there  the  individual  is  before  or  during 
the  development  of  its  hereditary  tendencies  exposed  to  envi- 
ronmental influences  similar  to  those  in  which  the  mature  be- 
ing will  function. 

Thus  both  infancy  and  the  capacity  to  learn  result  from  a 
deferring  of  the  instincts  and  the  instinctive  acts.  But  we 
have  yet  to  describe  the  mechanism  by  which  exposure  to  en- 

1  Compare  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXIV. 


Readjustment,  its  Conditions  and  Methods       71 

vironmental  conditions  can  change  the  drift  of  the  hereditary 
tendency.  This  is  to  be  found  in  the  higher  organisms  espe- 
cially in  the  development  of  elaborate  interconnections  in  the 
central  nervous  system  and  of  an  initial  equality  of  permea- 
bility among  lines  of  association.  Thus  there  results  an  early 
diffusion  of  impulses  and  lack  of  coordination,  but  the  ulti- 
mate outcome  is  preferential  associations  or  adjustments  that 
are  due  to  experiment  and  experience  rather  than  to  heredity. 
The  highest  phase  of  this  initial  diffusion  of  impulses  makes  its 
appearance  when  we  have  cerebral  control.  Here  the  instinc- 
tive tendencies  are  not  only  deferred,  but  they  cease  to  be 
capable  without  the  control  and  guidance  of  experience  of 
developing  into  mature  adjustments.  They  are  imperfect. 


CHAPTER  III 

HEREDITY   AND    EDUCATION 

SECTION  8.    Differentiation  of  heredity  and  education 

Race  adapta-      THE  discussions  of  the  preceding  chapter  may  all  be  sum- 
tion  per-     marized  in  the  conception  of  race  adaptation.     The  individual, 

manent,  in-  .  .  . 

dividual  ad-  unless  we  except  some  of  the  simplest  forms  of  life,  is  only  tem- 


porarily  adjusted  so  that  it  can  maintain  its  life.  Nature 
seems  to  have  abandoned  the  problem  of  effecting  readjust- 
ments to  variable  environments  by  continuous  growth,  and  in 
resorting  to  discontinuous  growth  to  have  substituted  the 
adaptation  of  the  race  or  the  species  for  that  of  the  individual. 
The  man  has  only  a  temporary,  a  fleeting  adjustment,  the 
race  has  one  that  is  comparatively  permanent,  perhaps  eternal. 

Heredity  the  Racial  adjustment  is  made  by  means  of  a  mechanism  that 
preserves  continuity  through  the  discontinuity  introduced  by 
tinuity  reproduction.  The  fundamental  factor  in  the  preservation 
of  this  uniformity  is  heredity.  Heredity  may  be  defined 
as  the  inherent  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  reproduced  form 
to  resemble  in  structure  and  function  its  progenitors.  This 
resemblance  consists  of  three  factors:  the  likeness  between 
parent  and  reproduced  form,  the  likeness  between  the  off- 
spring and  an  earlier  stage  in  the  life  of  the  parent,  and  the 
inherent  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  offspring  to  develop  along 

it  adapts  to   the  lines  of  growth  of  the  parent.     These  resemblances  exist 
the  abiding  to  preserve  continuity,  wherever  this  is  possible,  and  they  may, 
therefore,  be  said  to  adapt  the  race  and  the  individual  to  such 
life  conditions  as  remain  invariable  age  after  age. 

72 


Heredity  and  Education  73 

On  the  other  hand,  as  life  advances  into  more  and  more  Education 

variable    environments   its    capacity    for    continuous   growth      fuap»ts  to 

•*  the  tempo- 

increases.     This  is  necessary  because  these  higher  variabilities      rary  and  is 


are  not  periodic  and  capable  of  being  specifically  anticipated,  6 


but  indeterminate  and  to  be  met  only  by  a  great  variety  of  tinuity 
resources  for  readjustment.  As  the  individual  learns  he  uses 
up  these  resources  and  thus  tends  to  disqualify  himself  for 
readjustments  that  involve  a  radical  change  from  the  habits 
already  acquired.  Hence  the  capacity  to  learn,  which  enables 
rapid  and  complex  readjustment,  leads  the  individual  into 
perilous  crises  in  case  the  adaptations  thus  gained  are  such  as 
fit  him  to  conditions  that  change  in  a  revolutionary  manner. 
It  follows  that  capacity  to  learn  on  the  part  of  the  individual 
must,  to  insure  race  adaptation,  be  coupled  with  capacity 
for  rejuvenation  on  the  part  of  the  race. 

Race  adaptation  in  indeterminately  variable  environments  Hence,  ac- 
implies,  therefore,  a  sharp  separation   between  that  which  is 
inherited  and  that  which  is  left  to  be  acquired  through  individ-      should  not 
ual   experience.     Heredity  adjusts   to    the   abiding   and    the      extent   hv 


periodic,  education  to  that  which  cannot  specifically  be  antici- 
pated.  The  physiological  mechanism  by  which  this  separa- 
tion is  effected  is  that  of  the  isolation  of  the  germ  cells  from 
the  body  cells,  so  that  the  former  are,  in  great  measure  at  least, 
protected  against  those  influences  that  mold  the  body  cells 
of  the  parent.1  The  result  is  that  the  offspring  begin  life  with 
substantially  the  same  inheritance  as  that  with  which  the 
parents  began.  They  do  not  to  any  appreciable  extent  dis- 
play the  influence  of  the  life  history  of  the  progenitor.  In  the 
language  of  biology,  acquired  characteristics  are  not  inherited.  Acquired 
It  is  not  intended  here  to  take  a  radical  stand  on  this  point. 


However,  one  does  not  need  to  be  an  expert  biologist  to  see      inherited 
that  with  human  beings  very  few  if  any  acquired  characters      degree 
1  Compare  Weissman,  The  Germ  Plasm. 


74  Principles  of  Education 

are  inherited.  The  great  mass  of  such  traits,  language,  man- 
ners, methods  of  dress,  occupations,  —  nay  even  morals  and 
ideals,  —  must  be  relearned  by  each  new  generation  with  pain- 
ful effort.  The  task  of  education  seems  like  that  of  Sisyphus  ; 
no  sooner  is  it  accomplished  for  one  generation  than  it  must 
be  resumed  with  a  new  one.  The  descendants  of  nobles  very 
quickly  assume  the  manners  of  the  lowly  born  when  hard  con- 
ditions bring  the  children  in  close  contact  with  humble  com- 
panions. On  the  other  hand,  the  marks  of  descent  of  a  self- 
made  generation  do  not  remain  to  confute  the  aristocratic 
pretensions  of  their  offspring. 

The  significant  thing  for  a  theory  of  education  is  that  for 

the  most  part  each  new  generation  has  to  acquire  anew  the 

habits  learned  by  its  parents,  —  or  different  ones.     It  is  of 

relatively   small   importance   whether    among    this    mass    of 

acquisitions  of  a  parent  there  may  or  may  not  be  found  a  rare 

occasional  trait  that  somehow  gets  ingrafted  on  the  heredity 

of  the  stock,  and  is  thus  transmitted  to  the  young  by  the  mere 

fact  of  their  being  born.     The  evident  fact  that  such  traits 

are,  to  say  the  least,  infrequent,  means  plainly  that  the  race 

is  better  off  without  the  ready  embodiment  in  heredity  of  the 

manifold  characteristics  that  a  high  degree  of  capacity  for 

education  enables  the  individual  so  quickly  to  assume. 

Lack  of  at-          The  utility  of  the  non-inheritance  of  acquired  characters  is 

the  vahie°     a  matter  to  which  very  little  attention  has  been  devoted  among 

of  the  non-  those  who  have  discussed  the  facts.    This  has  been  due  to  a 

inheritance 

of  acquired  variety  of  reasons,  perhaps  the  least  important  of  which  is 
that  they  may  not  have  thought  of  it.  A  fundamental  reason 
is,  doubtless,  the  scientific  sense,  which  is  reluctant  to  explain 
the  value  of  anything  before  it  is  definitely  settled  that  this 
thing  is  a  fact.  Another  important  cause  of  the  neglect  of  the 
value  in  question  lies  in  the  great  emphasis  that  has  naturally 
been  thrown  upon  learning  as  the  only  intelligible  ground  of 


Heredity  and  Education 


75 


bility  of 
such  in- 
heritance 
with  ra- 
tionality 


variation.  Thus  it  has  seemed  that  the  inheritance  of  acquired 
characters  is  so  far  from  being  undesirable  that  it  is  the  only 
source  of  racial  variation  and  progress.  This  difficulty  will 
be  considered  later.  Here  we  may  note  that  a  few  scientists 
have  attended  to  the  positive  evils  that  would  spring  from  such 
inheritance. 

Professor  James  says  :  — 

"In  the  mental  world  we  certainly  do  not  observe  that  the  Jameson  the 
children  of  great  travelers  get  their  geography  lessons  with  incompati- 
unusual  ease,  or  that  a  baby  whose  ancestors  have  spoken 
German  for  thirty  generations  will,  on  that  account,  learn 
Italian  any  the  less  easily  from  his  Italian  nurse.  But  if  the 
considerations  we  have  been  led  to  are  true,  they  explain  per- 
fectly well  why  this  law  should  not  be  verified  in  the  human 
race,  and  why,  therefore,  in  looking  for  evidence  on  the  sub- 
ject we  should  confine  ourselves  to  the  lower  animals.  In 
them  fixed  habit  is  the  essential  and  characteristic  law  of  nerv- 
ous action.  The  brain  grows  to  the  exact  modes  in  which  it 
has  been  exercised,  and  the  inheritance  of  these  modes  would 
have  in  it  nothing  surprising.  But  in  man  the  negation  of  all 
fixed  modes  is  the  essential  characteristic.  He  owes  his  whole 
preeminence  as  a  reasoner,  his  whole  human  quality  of  intel- 
lect, we  may  say,  to  the  facility  with  which  a  given  mode  of 
thought  in  him  may  suddenly  be  broken  up  into  elements  which 
recombine  anew.  Only  at  the  price  of  inheriting  no  settled 
instinctive  tendencies  is  he  able  to  settle  every  novel  case  by 
the  fresh  discovery  by  his  reason  of  novel  principles.  He  is, 
par  excellence,  the  educable  animal.  If  then  the  law  that  habits 
are  inherited  were  found  exemplified  in  him,  he  would,  in  so  far 
forth,  fall  short  of  his  human  perfections ;  and  when  we  sur- 
vey the  human  races,  we  actually  do  find  that  those  which  are 
most  instinctive  at  the  outset  are  those  which  on  the  whole 
are  least  educated  in  the  end."  x 

Professor  James,  according  to  the  view  previously  presented, 
errs  in  confining  the  value  of   non-inheritance   of   acquired 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  pp.  367-368. 


76  Principles  of  Education 

characters  to  man.  Wherever  an  organism  dwells  in  an  envi- 
ronment that  varies  in  indeterminate  ways,  there  the  differen- 
tiation between  those  permanently  useful  adjustments  that 
heredity  may  safely  hand  on,  and  those  incidentally  valuable 
ones  that  might  prove  a  bar  to  readjustment,  and  may,  in  conse- 
quence, better  be  left  to  be  acquired  by  the  individual,  should 
exist.  The  wider  application  of  the  principle  is  brought  out 
by  Mr.  William  Platt  Ball. 

Ball  on  the         "The  effects  of  use,  indeed,  are  generally  beneficial  up  to  a 

bad  effects  certain  point ;   for  natural  selection  has  sanctioned  or  evolved 

heritance     organs  which  possess  the  property  or  potentiality  of  develop- 

among        ing  to  the  right  extent  under  the  stimulus  of  use  or  nourish- 

brutes         ment.     But  use   inheritance   would    cumulatively   alter   this 

individual  adaptability  and  would  tend  to  fix  the  size  of  the 

organs  by  the  average  amount  of  ancestral  use  or  disuse  rather 

than  by  the  actual  requirements  of  the  individual."  x 

Concrete  cases  of  such  possible  ill  effects  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  effects  of  use  are  given  in  the  following  extract :  — 

"Use  inheritance  would  crudely  and  undiscriminatingly 
proportion  parts  to  actual  work  done  —  or  rather  to  the  vary- 
ing nourishment  and  growth  resulting  from  a  multiplicity  of 
causes,  and  this  in  its  various  details  would  often  conflict  most 
seriously  with  the  real  necessities  of  the  case,  such  as  occasional 
passive  strength,  or  appropriate  shape,  lightness,  and  general 
adaptation.  If  its  accumulated  effects  were  not  corrected  by 
natural  or  sexual  selection,  horns  and  antler  would  disappear  in 
favor  of  enlarged  hoofs.  The  elephant's  tusks  would  become 
smaller  than  his  teeth.  Man  would  have  callosities  for  sitting 
on,  like  certain  monkeys,  and  huge  corns  or  hoofs  for  walking 
on.  Bones  would  often  be  modified  disastrously.  Thus  the 
condyle  of  the  human  jaw  would  become  larger  than  the  body 
of  the  jaw,  because  as  the  fulcrum  of  the  lever  it  receives  more 
pressure.  Some  organs  (like  the  heart,  which  is  always  at 
work)  would  become  inconveniently  or  unnecessarily  large. 

1  Are  Hie,  Effects  of  Use  Inherited?   pp.  132-133. 


Heredity  and  Education 


77 


ance   es- 
pecially 
detrimental 
to  man 


Other  absolutely  indispensable  organs,  which  are  comparatively 
passive  or  very  seldom  used,  would  dwindle  until  their  ruin 
caused  the  weakness  of  the  individual  or  the  extinction  of  the 
species.  In  eliminating  various  evil  results  of  use  inheritance 
natural  selection  would  be  eliminating  use  inheritance  itself"  1 

When  we  turn  to  the  case  of  humanity,  Professor  Ball  finds 
these  characteristic  difficulties  intensified. 

"It  (use  inheritance)  is  often  mischievous  as  well  as  anoma-  use  inherit- 
lous  in  its  action.  Under  civilization  with  its  division  of  labor, 
the  various  functions  of  mind  and  body  are  very  unequally 
exercised.  There  is  overwork  or  misuse  of  one  part  and  disuse 
and  neglect  of  others,  leading  to  the  partial  breakdown  or 
degeneration  of  various  organs  and  to  a  general  deterioration 
of  health  through  the  disturbed  balance  of  the  constitution. 
The  brain,  or  rather  particular  parts  of  it,  are  often  overstim- 
ulated,  while  the  body  is  neglected.  In  many  ways  education 
and  civilization  foster  nervousness  and  weakness,  and  under- 
mine the  rude  natural  health  and  spirits  of  the  human  animal. 
Alcohol,  tobacco,  tea,  coffee,  extra  brain  work,  preservation 
of  the  weak,  and  many  other  causes  help  to  undermine  the 
modern  constitution;  so  that  the  prospect  of  cumulative 
intensification  of  these  evils  by  the  additional  influence  of  use 
inheritance  is  not  an  encouraging  one." 

The  utility  of  such  a  differentiation  of  heredity  and  education  view  that  ac- 
as  makes  inevitable  little  if  any  inheritance  of  acquired  char- 
acters seems  patent.  On  the  other  hand,  the  evolutionist  is, 
as  we  have  seen,  confronted  with  the  difficulty  of  accounting 
for  the  origin  of  the  variations  on  the  basis  of  which  alone  prog- 
ress through  natural  selection  is  possible.  To  say  that  these 
were  originally  acquired  characters  seems  like  so  easy  a  way 
out  of  this  difficulty  that  many  are  loath  to  discard  the  possi- 
bility of  such  inheritance,  and  to  return  to  the  night  of  ignorance 
concerning  the  prime  cause  of  evolution.  Other  explanations 
of  the  cause  of  variations  seem  simply  to  beg  the  question. 

1  Are  the  E/ects  of  Use  Inherited?  pp.  128-129.  *  Ibid.,  p.  15*. 


quired 
characters 
are  the 
variations 
that  enable 
evolution 


78  Principles  of  Education 

This  alone  has  the  merit  of  apparently  affording  a  clear  and 
definite  cause,  if,  indeed,  it  prove  a  true  one. 

Variation  However,  a  little  reflection  on  the  nature  of  the  process  of 

aTa  basis  learning  or  acquiring  characters  may  serve  to  dispel  the  notion 


for  the        that  tj^g  js  so  simpie  anci  fundamental  an  affair  that  it  would, 

power  to 

learn  new  if  we  only  could  use  it,  afford  a  lucid  explanation  of  the  origin 
of  new  characters.  In  fact,  the  process  of  learning  is  not  a 
process  of  creating  new  powers  or  traits.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  simply  a  process  of  selection.  One  can  learn  only  as  he 
has  the  capacity  to  learn,  and  a  capacity  to  learn  is  positive 
and  definite,  a  true  character,  without  which  the  so-called 
acquiring  of  characters  cannot  go  on.  Paradoxical  as  it  may 
sound,  we  can  acquire  only  what  we  in  a  sense  already  possess. 
We  can  learn  to  do  only  that  which  we  can  do,  and  learning 
consists  simply  and  literally  in  selecting  from  among  our 
potentialities  those  which  are  best  fitted  to  achieve  successful 
results  in  the  various  situations  of  life. 

As  this  proposition  will  in  the  succeeding  discussions  be 
repeatedly  taken  up  in  order  that  from  a  new  point  of  view 
it  may  be  explained,  amplified,  and  defended,  it  will  be  uneco- 
nomical here  to  enlarge  upon  it.  We  may,  however,  note  two 
things.  In  the  first  place,  the  conception  in  question  is  merely 
an  application  of  a  principle  laid  down  in  section  3,  that 
growth  is  the  development  of  inner  powers  under  the  stimulus 
of  a  lack  of  adjustment  to  the  conditions  of  life.  The  environ- 
ment does  not  explain,  nor  even  suggest  the  processes  by  which 
an  organism  becomes  adapted  to  it.  It  merely  stimulates 
these  processes  and  determines  which  shall  survive.  Second, 
since  the  process  of  learning  is  itself  founded  on  capacity  for 
variation,  to  ascribe  the  origin  of  variations  to  the  acquisi- 
tions of  the  individual  is  to  beg  the  question  only  a  little  more 
subtly  than  when  one  attributes  them  to  chance. 

In  the  last  analysis,  perhaps,  it  will  prove  necessary  simply 


Heredity  and  Education  79 

to  assume  on  the  part  of  life  an  inevitable  tendency  to  vary,  inherent 


to  develop  hidden   potentialities,  to  display  the  unexpected,      jj^ten 
Given  this  tendency,  three  conceptions  have  been  formulated      dency  to 
as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  reveals  itself.     These  have  been 
called  the  theory  of  chance  variations,  that  of  orthogenesis,  Three  con- 
and  that  of  heterogenesis.1  SflS-0 

The  theory  of  chance  variations  regards  the  tendency  to  acter 
vary  as  displaying  itself  in  slight  departures  on  the  part  of  the 
offspring  from  the  norm  of  the  parent.  Slight  differences  in 
form,  size,  proportion  of  parts,  composition  of  tissue,  etc., 
appear  and  may  be  ranged  around  a  medium  type.  With 
respect  to  any  single  character  the  number  displaying  a  certain 
variation  will  be  in  a  general  way  inversely  proportional  to  the 
extent  of  this  variation  from  the  normal.  Thus  we  have 
Galton's  curve  of  distribution.2  There  will  be  very  few  very 
tall  or  very  short  men,  more  who  are  moderately  tall  or  short, 
and  most  who  are  about  the  average  height. 

In  order  that  slight  variations  may  lead  to  evolution  we  must  Evolution  by 
have  the  cooperation  of  some  form  of  selection.     Of  this  there 


are  many  types,  notable  among  which  are  the  demonstrably      and  it3 

*     **  .    J        difficulty 

existent  natural  and  artificial  selection,  and  the  hypothetical 
sexual,  germinal,  and  organic  selection.  Of  all  these  agencies 
natural  selection  is  the  one  which  must  be  relied  on  most  to 
account  for  the  origin  of  species ;  and  right  here  arises  a  diffi- 
culty. It  is  hard  to  see  that  the  slight  chance  variations  from 
the  norm  of  the  parents  which  can  everywhere  be  found  in  the 
offspring  would  be  sufficient  to  assure  the  possessors  of  any 
of  them  an  advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence  such  as 
would  insure  their  survival  when  others  perish.  Unless  some 
slight  variations  possess  this  survival  value  there  would  be 

1  For  an  admirable  presentation  of  these  views  consult  Kellogg,  Darwinism 
To-day. 

1  Compare  Natural  Inheritance. 


8o 


Principles  of  Education 


Organic 
selection  as 
giving  sur- 
vival value 
to    slight 
variations 


Organic 
selection  as 
disinte- 
grating 
and  build- 
ing up  in- 
stinctive 
acts 


no  tendency  for  them  to  accumulate  under  the  influence  of 
selection  until  they  really  could  produce  a  radical  change  in 
the  character  of  a  species. 

An  ingenious  hypothesis  to  assist  in  surmounting  this  diffi- 
culty is  that  of  organic  selection,  suggested  by  Professors 
Baldwin1  and  Osborn  in  America  and  Lloyd  Morgan  in  Eng- 
land. According  to  this  theory,  slight  variations,  which  in 
themselves  would  have  no  survival  value,  may,  if  they  are 
possessed  by  an  organism  that  has  at  the  same  time  consider- 
able power  of  accommodation  or  learning,  be  developed  through 
culture  until  they  actually  are  of  great  service.  The  survival 
of  such  accommodating  organisms  would  insure  the  survival 
of  the  traits  upon  which  the  process  of  readjustment  is  founded. 
Any  variation  in  succeeding  generations  toward  rendering 
these  traits  more  pronounced  would  make  the  process  of  accom- 
modation through  them  more  sure,  more  swift,  and  more  easy. 
Such  variation  would  therefore  have  selection  value,  and  might 
ultimately  so  develop  the  trait  that  it  would  function  advan- 
tageously without  any  assistance  from  accommodation. 

Professor  Groos2  has  called  attention  to  the  possibility  that 
the  power  to  learn  might,  instead  of  favoring  the  accumula- 
tion of  variations  in  the  direction  of  perfecting  an  instinctive 
act,  operate  in  just  the  other  way.  By  rendering  it  unneces- 
sary for  the  organism  to  possess  perfect  hereditary  adjust- 
ments, the  capacity  to  learn  permits  and,  indeed,  encourages 
the  disintegration  of  perfect  instinctive  acts  in  order  to  favor 
the  power  to  readjust.  Baldwin  recognizes  this  point,  and 
meets  it  by  showing  how  the  power  to  learn,  which  manifests 
itself  especially  in  the  form  of  imitativeness,  might  lead  to  the 
gradual  perfecting  of  certain  instinctive  acts  and  the  disinte- 
gration and  plasticity  of  others. 

1  Compare  Development  and  Evolution. 

2  Compare  The  Play  of  Animals. 


Heredity  and  Education 


81 


"If  an  imperfect  instinct  is  in  the  way  of  developing  for  a 
marked  utility,  imitation,  by  supplementing  it,  would  undoubt- 
edly aid  its  survival  and  evolution  (to  a  perfected  form). 
Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  if  an  instinct  is  in  process  of  decay,  — 
or  if  the  conditions  make  its  decay  desirable,  —  Professor 
Groos's  principle  would  then  come  into  operation."1 

The  special  condition  under  which  we  might  expect  a  perfect 
instinctive  act  to  decay  would  unquestionably  be  the  develop- 
ment of  an  indeterminate  environmental  variability,  such  as 
would  make  it  desirable  for  each  individual  to  begin  life  with 
tendencies  to  be  perfected  as  circumstances  suggest,  rather 
than  with  fixed  adjustments  that  are  either  unmodifiable  or 
to  be  changed  only  with  difficulty.  The  higher  environments,  Higher  en- 
involving  many  new,  complex,  and  variable  conditions,  would 
logically  favor  such  a  change,  and  progress  into  them  would 
bring  with  it  decay  of  perfect  instincts  and  instinctive  acts. 
Practically  this  is  accomplished  by  the  development  of  cerebral 
control,  —  which]  has  already  been  discussed,2  —  and  the  cor- 
responding loss  of  inherited  preferential  connections.  This 
change  makes  it  possible  to  utilize  any  simple  reaction  wher- 
ever it  may  prove  useful,  and  thus  to  establish  new  habits  and 
new  organizations  of  habits. 

It  is  likely  that  this  tendency  is  rather  more  common  in  the 
higher  reaches  of  evolution  than  is  that  of  the  fostering  of  vari- 
ations by  the  power  of  accommodation  until  they  may  accumu- 
late into  perfect  instinctive  acts.  However  this  may  be,  it  is 
evident  that  the  latter  sort  of  organic  selection  would  suit 
only  conditions  where  new  environmental  factors  possess  a 
stability  that  makes  a  fixed  adjustment  to  them  a  continuously 
valuable  asset.  In  that  event,  the  insecurity  of  the  immature 
condition  and  the  wear  and  tear  of  learning  would  both  be 
minimized  by  the  transformation  of  such  slight  variations  as 


1  Development  and  Evolution,  p.  29. 
G 


Compare  §  7. 


82  Principles  of  Education 

are  useful  only  when  supplemented  by  accommodation  into  the 
perfect  forms  of  adjustment  that  function  in  a  fairly  adequate 
way  without  any  intervention  on  the  part  of  culture.  Thus 
selection  would  tend  to  favor  variation  in  the  direction  of  per- 
fecting the  instinctive  tendencies. 

The  operation  of  organic  selection  would,  therefore,  follow 
the  general  principle  that  heredity  adapts  to  the  permanent 
and  education  to  the  transitory.  Wherever  in  the  course  of 
evolution  new  environments  present  abiding  factors,  there 
heredity  advances  to  perfect  an  adjustment.  Whenever,  on 
the  other  hand,  transitory  conditions  are  to  be  met,  there 
education  is  furnished  with  an  initial  capital  of  imperfect, 
plastic,  alternative  tendencies,  and  left  to  complete  the  work 
of  readjustment.  Inasmuch  as  organic  selection  is  based  on 
power  of  accommodation,  and  this  in  turn  finds  its  use  in  con- 
ditions of  indeterminate  variability,  we  might  expect  that  such 
selection  would  tend  to  promote  those  variations  that  are  useful 
to  education,  and  thus  to  bring  about  the  disintegration  rather 
than  the  perfecting  of  instincts. 

Orthogenesis       The  advantage  of  the  conceptions  of  orthogenesis  and  of 
15? !.r0~  heterogenesis  over  that  of  chance  variation  lies  in  the  fact 

genesis  tun 

effect  prog-  that  they  do  not  need,  at  least  to  such  a  degree,  the  support  of 
ouTseiec-  some  form  of  selection  in  order  to  explain  evolution.  Ortho- 
11011  genesis  means  a  tendency  to  vary  in  the  direction  of  useful 

functions  rather  than  merely  at  random.  Heterogenesis 
signifies  a  tendency  toward  radical  change  such  as  would  bring 
about  very  suddenly  entirely  new  varieties.  If  there  be  ortho- 
genesis, selection  is  unnecessary  to  account  for  the  origin  of  new 
species,  for  the  inherent  tendency  to  vary  is  self-directed  toward 
the  evolution  of  new  and  better  forms  of  adaptation.  If  there 
be  heterogenesis,  selection  might  destroy  those  sports  that,  are 
ill  adapted,  but  it  would  be  unnecessary  to  account  for  either 
the  origin  or  the  preservation  of  the  type  of  those  that  can 


Heredity  and  Education 


live.    The  inherent  tendency  to  vary  displays  itself  occasion- 
ally in  the  rise  of  a  new  type  that  breeds  true. 

It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  tendency  to  vary  takes  all 
three  forms.  There  is  much  random  variation,  which  selec- 
tion converts  into  new  and  better  adaptations.  Again,  the 
variation  may,  from  the  beginning,  have  tended  rather  toward 
the  better  than  the  worse ;  or  it  may  have  come  to  do  so  be- 
cause the  tendency  to  variation  in  an  orthogenetic  manner  has 
a  survival  value  and  other  tendencies  have  been  eliminated 
by  natural  selection.  Finally,  extraordinary  forms  do  occa- 
sionally appear ;  variation  sometimes  proceeds  by  leaps,  and 
among  the  new  creations  thus  arising  there  may  well  be  some 
that  are  even  better  adapted  than  the  parent  forms. 

The  effect  of  sex  may  be  expected  to  strengthen  all  these 
tendencies.  By  mixing  strains  of  heredity  it  would,  as  has 
generally  been  supposed,1  increase  the  amount  of  variation. 
Where  conditions  remain  stable  for  a  long  period,  there  effi- 
cient type  forms  would,  by  continual  elimination  of  weaker 
variants,  become  practically  universal  and  uniform.  Here 
the  tendency  towards  light  variations  might  well  be  orthoge- 
netic. Inbreeding  seems  to  strengthen  dominant  characters. 
Thus  since  the  dominant  traits  are  those  securing  adjustment, 
variation  that  tends  especially  in  their  direction  might  properly 
be  regarded  as  orthogenetic,  —  at  least  until  by  what  might 
be  called  a  sort  of  racial  inertia  of  growth  the  point  of  most 
advantageous  adjustment  is  passed.  On  the  other  hand, 
where  conditions  are  revolutionized,  there  selection,  by  favor- 
ing rapid  change,  would  destroy  the  dominance  of  the  older 
adjustments  in  behalf  of  the  variants,  and  the  mixture  of 
heredity  in  variant  types  would  rapidly  create  conditions  of 
heterogenesis. 
In  resume,  we  may  say  that  for  any  organisms  that  in- 

1  Compare  Weismann,  Essays  on  Heredity. 


Combination 
of  the 
forms  of 
variation 
as  likely 


Sex  as  pro- 
moting all 
types  of 
variation 


84  Principles  of  Education 

Summary  habit  indeterminately  variable  environments  education  be- 
comes differentiated  from  heredity  as  the  agency  by  which 
adaptation  to  the  changing  conditions  is  brought  about. 
This  involves  the  non-inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  a 
result  which  is  attained  by  the  segregation  of  the  germ  plasm 
from  the  body  plasm.  Thus  heredity  everywhere  comes  to 
adapt  to  the  abiding,  while  education  is  left  to  deal  with  the 
transitory.  Many  biologists  are  loath  to  admit  the  non-inheri- 
tance of  acquired  characters,  in  spite  of  its  evident  utility, 
because  only  thus,  they  think,  can  we  account  for  the  varia- 
tions through  which  evolution  is  made  possible.  They  fail 
to  note  that  the  process  of  education  itself  is  one  of  selecting 
from  among  the  potentialities  of  the  individual  those  best  suited 
to  the  conditions  of  life.  Hence  it  must  assume  the  existence 
in  the  individual  of  a  power  to  vary  or  of  variations.  It  is 
just  as  difficult  to  account  for  the  variations  that  make  educa- 
tion possible  as  it  is  to  explain  those  through  which  heredity  is 
improved.  It  is  necessary  to  assume  an  inherent  tendency 
on  the  part  of  living  things  to  vary.  Three  theories  exist  as 
to  the  character  of  these  variations :  one,  that  of  slight  chance 
variations;  a  second,  that  of  a  tendency  to  vary  toward  the 
better,  or  orthogenesis;  and  a  third,  that  of  an  occasional  ten- 
dency to  vary  greatly  so  as  to  produce  immediately  what  are 
practically  new  varieties.  All  three  types  of  variation  probably 
exist.  Chance  variation  can  produce  no  evolution  unless 
supported  by  selection.  The  forms  of  selection  especially 
important  are  natural  and  organic  selection.  The  latter  en- 
hances the  survival  value  of  small  variations  by  using  them 
as  a  basis  for  accommodations.  It  thus  enables  them  to  accu- 
mulate into  perfect  instinctive  acts  or  to  bring  about  the  dis- 
integration of  such  acts  into  imperfect  instinctive  acts,  as  the 
exigencies  of  the  times  make  it  advantageous  to  trust  these 
characters  more  to  heredity  or  more  to  education.  Finally, 


Heredity  and  Education  85 

under  the  influence  of  sex,  orthogenesis  would  be  more  apt  to 
prevail  in  times  of  stability,  whereas  heterogenesis  would  ap- 
pear in  revolutionary  epochs,  bringing  into  existence  in  these 
crises  such  changes  as  may  alone  be  adequate  to  insure 
survival. 

SECTION  9.    Heredity  as  a  basis  for  education 

We  have  seen  that  capacity  to  learn  is  a  positive  rather  than  Hereditary 
a  negative  thing.     In  the  old,  this  capacity  may  be  exhausted. 
In  the  young,  it  is  restored  by  rejuvenation.     It  is  part  of  their      to  learn 
hereditary  equipment  because  it  is  an  invariably  useful  pro- 
vision, more  or  less  adequate,  from  the  resources  of  which  they 
are  to  find  the  material  for  their  specific  adjustments  or  else 
fail  and  perish.     This  capacity  for  education  is  probably  found 
to  some  extent  in  all  living  beings.     Professor  Jennings  says 
of  the  infusoria  :  — 

"The  same  individual  does  not  always  behave  in  the  same  Universality 
way  under  the  same  external   conditions,  but  the  behavior      of  this 
depends  upon  the  physiological  condition  of  the  animal.     The      anwng 
reaction  to  any  given  stimulus  is  modified  by  the  past  experi-      animals 
ence  of  the  animal,  and  the  modifications  are  regulatory,  not 
haphazard  in  character.     The  phenomena  are  thus  similar 
to  those  shown  in  the  learning  of  higher  organisms,  save  that 
the  modifications  depend  upon  less  complex  conditions  and 
last  a  shorter  time."1 

The  same  statements  were  shown  by  Professor  Jennings  to 
apply  to  the  amoeba.2  His  evidence  seems  to  indicate  some- 
what conclusively  that  animals  at  least  can  all  learn.  In  gen- 
eral, this  power  seems  to  involve  the  ability  on  the  part  of  the 
organism  to  change  its  customary  reaction  to  a  certain  stimu- 
lus under  the  guidance  of  experimentation.  Such  accommoda- 
tion in  turn  involves  a  sensitivity  to  the  success  or  failure  of 

1  Behavior  of  tlie  Lower  Organisms,  p.  179.  *  Ibid.,  pp.  24-25. 


86 


Principles  of  Education 


Factors    in 
learning 


Function  in 
learning 
of  the  in- 
stincts and 
the  action 
system 


The   action 
system  il- 
lustrated 
in  the 
stentor 


reactions,  and  a  capacity  under  the  feeling  of  failure  to  resort 
to  a  different  response.  For  the  sake  of  clearness  in  treat- 
ment the  factors  in  this  process  may  be  analyzed  into  four : 
(i)  the  instincts  or  wants  of  the  organism;  (2)  its  action 
system,  or  equipment  of  resources  by  the  use  of  which  it  can 
meet  these  needs ;  (3)  a  sensitivity  that  takes  account  of  the 
existence  of  lack  of  adjustment,  and  both  inhibits  such  re- 
sponses as  prove  unsuccessful  and  stimulates  experimentation 
in  the  direction  of  other  ones  ;  (4)  a  physiological  arrangement 
whereby  a  ready  utilization  of  the  resources  of  the  action 
system  may  be  brought  about  under  the  stimulus  of  dissatis- 
faction, and  new  associations  of  stimuli  and  responses  quickly 
made  strong  under  the  influence  of  the  opposite  feeling. 

The  first  two  of  these  factors  do  not  of  themselves  imply 
any  power  of  learning.  However,  they  furnish  the  materials 
upon  which  the  operation  of  the  last  two  depends.  Hence  the 
number  of  its  instincts  and  the  extent  of  the  resources  of  its 
action  system  determines  directly  the  versatility  of  the  learn- 
ing organism.  We  have  already  defined  the  instincts  as  the 
functions  or  wants  of  the  organism,1  and  have  shown  how  each 
may  become  effective  through  a  variety  of  instinctive  acts, 
just  as  any  instinctive  act  may  be  used  to  satisfy  many  instincts. 
Upon  the  number  and  variety  of  the  instincts  will,  of  course, 
depend  the  range  of  situations  which  may  call  for  readjust- 
ment. On  the  other  hand,  upon  the  number  and  variety  of 
the  elements  in  the  action  system  will  depend  the  richness  of 
the  resources  for  readjustment,  the  number  of  things  that 
can  be  learned. 

The  expression  action  system  is  borrowed  from  Professor 
Jennings.2  A  good  illustration  of  an  action  system  may  be 
found  in  that  of  the  stentor,  the  behavior  of  which  is  described 

1  Compare  §  7. 

2  Compare  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  p.  300. 


Heredity  and  Education  87 

by  the  same  author.1  The  stentor  is  a  minute,  trumpet- 
shaped,  aquatic  animal,  which  is  usually  attached  at  its  foot 
to  some  object  on  the  bed  of  a  body  of  water.  Its  food  is  car- 
ried through  its  flaring  head  or  mouth  down  into  its  body 
by  currents  of  water,  which  may  be  set  in  motion  or  controlled 
by  the  movements  of  cilia  or  hairs  that  cover  the  animal's 
surface.  If  undesirable  foreign  substances  are  introduced 
into  the  water  and  enter  the  mouth  of  the  stentor,  it  may  bend 
over,  thus  getting  its  mouth  in  a  different  place.  If  the  ob- 
noxious elements  continue  to  disturb  it,  it  may  try  to  remove 
them  by  reversing  the  movement  of  the  cilia.  If  this  fails, 
it  may  contract  temporarily.  Finally,  as  a  last  resort,  after 
repeated  trials  and  delays,  it  may  break  loose  from  its  attach- 
ment, and  swim  away  to  a  more  favorable  locality. 

Here  we  have  in  a  very  simple   organism   four  alternative 
methods  of    meeting  a  specific    situation.     These  exhaust  its 
list  of  resources  for  learning,  so  far  as  this  case  is  concerned. 
It  cannot  learn  to  meet  the  emergency  in  any  other  way  than 
has  been  provided  for  it  by  heredity.     But  higher  organisms  Complicated 
have  far  more  complicated  action  systems.     Hence  their  pow-      ^he* 
ers  of  learning  are  correspondingly  increased.     They  possess  a      tion  sys- 
complicated  set  of  muscles,  to  which  are  attached  a  great 
variety  of  adaptive  structures,  such  as  teeth,  horns,  protective  Corre- 
armor,  hoofs,  etc.     Of  all  these  the  most  extraordinary  in  the      sP°ndiQg 

*  resource- 

possibilities  of  adjustment  that  they  involve  are  the  hand  and      fulness  in 

the  vocal  organs  in  man.  Through  the  hand  man  is  able  to 
extend  to  an  almost  inconceivable  degree  the  artificial  resources 
of  adaptation  which  make  up  what  we  have  called  the  artificial 
environment.2  Tools,  clothing,  weapons,  shelter,  fire,  —  all 
that  enormous  array  of  instrumentalities  by  which  man  im- 
proves upon  the  equipment  with  which  nature  provides  him,  — 
are  very  considerably  dependent  on  the  remarkable  versatility 

1  Ibid.,  pp.  170-179.  3  Compare  §  4. 


88  Principles  of  Education 

of  the  hand.    They  give  to  man  an  action  system  incompa- 
rably richer  than  that  of  any  lower  animal. 

Just  as  the  hand,  when  reenforced  and  controlled  by  ade- 
quate physical  and  mental  power,  enables  an  enormous  expan- 
sion of  the  action  system  in  the  way  of  artificial  resources,  so 
the  vocal  organs,  when  given  similar  support,  put  at  man's 
disposal,  to  such  a  degree  as  to  revolutionize  his  life,  an  action 
system  consisting  of  methods  of  social  cooperation.  Very 
little  that  man  does  fails  to  utilize  in  some  way  such  methods, 
and  his  extraordinary  efficiency  in  the  use  of  social  devices 
rests  on  his  ability  to  communicate. 

intelligence         The  use  of  the  hand  and  the  vocal  organs  to  accomplish 
an  adjunct  sucn  resuits  is,  of  course,  so  dependent  upon  intelligence  that 
action  sys-  the  servants  are  almost  lost  to  sight  from  the  overwhelming 
WgheTani-  interest  in  the  master.     It  will  be  thought  that  among  the 
mals          resources  of  the  action  system  by  far  the  most  significant  is 
mental  ability.     Such  is,  indeed,  the  case,  and  later  in  our 
discussion 1  an  endeavor  will  be  made  to  analyze  the  function 
of  intelligence,  and  to  determine  the  point  of  view  from  which 
it  constitutes  part  of  the  resources  for  action.     That  matter 
may  here,  however,  better  be  left  as  a  promise,  in  order  not  to 
complicate  too  much  the  consideration  of  the  rudimentary  fac- 
tors in  learning,  which  is  the  object  of  the  present  section, 
interdepend-       The  possibilities  in  the  way  of  learning  depend,  on  the  one 
stincts  and  nand,  on  tne  number  and  variety  of  the  instincts  and,  on  the 
action         other,  on  the  richness  of  the  resources  of  the  action  system. 
These  two  factors  are  in  great  measure  interdependent.     We 
have  already  shown   in  discussing  the  evolution  of  wants2 
how  new  types  of  reaction,  when  they  arise,  bring  with  them 
new  needs.    The  power  of  movement  brings  with  it  that  of 
sensation  to  direct  it,  and  this  in  turn  makes  its  possessor  dis- 
satisfied with  unfavorable  conditions  in  regard  to  the  symbols 

1  Compare  Chs.  V,  VII,  VIII,  etc.  2  Compare  §  5. 


Heredity  and  Education  89 

of  sense.  These  become  quite  as  important  to  the  adjustment 
of  the  individual  as  are  the  fundamental  conditions  of  life 
which  they  more  or  less  immediately  and  accurately  represent. 
The  expansion  of  the  action  system  to  include  apparatus  for 
swifter  and  more  prolonged  movement  involves  the  expansion 
of  the  functions  or  instincts  to  include  the  need  of  a  satisfac- 
tory environment  of  sense.  A  need  could  not  arise  unless  there 
were  methods  by  which  it  could,  in  part  at  least,  be  met,  and 
the  mechanism  by  which  such  methods  are  carried  on  could 
scarcely  long  survive  any  need  for  their  use.  This  interde- 
pendence leads  to  the  customary  application  of  the  term 
junction  indifferently  to  the  wants  and  to  the  means  by  which 
they  may  be  satisfied.  Nevertheless,  just  as  we  have  here 
limited  the  term  instinct  to  the  need,  so  perhaps  it  will  be  in  the 
interest  of  clearness  to  regard  the  function  as  the  instinct.  To 
speak  of  an  instinct  as  a  function,  then,  simply  emphasizes 
the  fact  that  it  is  endowed  with  an  equipment  of  activities 
for  its  realization.  Thus  we  preserve  the  distinction  between 
the  needs  and  the  action  system,  while  recognizing  their  inter- 
dependence. 

The  value  of  this  distinction  comes  especially  in  evidence  Factors  con- 
when  we  pass  on  to  the  discussion  of  the  last  two  factors  which 
were  included  in  our  analysis  of  the  condition  of  learning,  effecting 
These  are,  sensitivity  to  lack  of  adjustment,  and  a  physiologi- 
cal  provision  for  utilizing  other  than  the  customary  reactions 
to  meet  a  certain  situation.  Here  we  come  upon  that  part  of 
the  hereditary  equipment  of  the  organism  which  exists  solely 
for  the  sake  of  readjustment,  or  learning.  It  is  possible  to 
imagine  a  creature  with  a  complicated  action  system  and  a 
complicated  set  of  instincts,  or  needs,  but  with  the  responses 
so  perfectly  adjusted  to  the  stimuli  that  there  never  would  be 
any  occasion  for  readjustment.  Moreover,  the  same  creature 
might  have  these  reactions  so  mechanically  attached  to  their 


90  Principles  of  Education 

respective  stimuli  that  no  others  could  be  substituted.     Such  a 
being  could  not  readjust. 

In  our  hypothetical  complicated  being  with  many  reactions 
but  no  power  of  readjustment,  there  would  be  no  occasion  to 
distinguish  between  the  needs  and  the  action  system.     Such 
a  creature  would  be  like  a  machine,  having  no  needs,  and, 
except  for  the  purposes  of  some  one  who  uses  it,  no  functions. 
It  would  operate,  but  not  in  any  true  sense  react.     The  dis- 
tinction between  the  needs,  uses,  instincts,  or  functions  and 
the  action  system  becomes  real  and  important  the  moment 
we  consider  the  possibility  of  refitting  the  latter  to  the  former. 
Then  it  becomes  a  vital  distinction,  indispensable  to  a  compre- 
hension of  the  nature  of  the  learning  process.     As  we  have 
seen,  the  needs  and  the  action  system  expand  together.     Each 
new  instinct  involves  a  group  of  typical  activities,  through 
Power  to        which  especially  it  is  able  to  function.     The  essence  of  power 
capacity  to  to  learn  ^es  m  tne  Power  to  use  new  activities  to  function  at 
utilize  ex-     the  behest  of  old  instincts  as  well,  or,  as  is  quite  as  frequently 
powers  in     desirable,  to  be  able  to  use  old  forms  of  activity  in  the  inter- 
new  uses      es|-  of  new  purposes.     Under  such  circumstances  alone  do  the 
number  and  variety  of  the  instincts  and  of  the  resources  of 
the  action  system  become  determinative  of  the  degree  of  the 
power  to  learn. 

its  physio-  The  physiological  arrangement  that  makes  possible  a  ready 
resort  from  one  to  another  of  the  resources  of  the  action  sys- 
tem is  a  central  system  of  nerves  bringing  together  the  various 
segmentary  circuits  in  the  nervous  system.  The  evolution 
of  this  central  connecting  system  has  already  been  discussed 
in  connection  with  the  evolution  of  infancy.1  Given  such  a 
system,  and  the  readiness  of  learning  depends  on  the  absence 
therein  of  preferential  associations  between  stimuli  and  re- 
sponses. Wherever  owing  to  heredity  or  training  such  prefer- 

1  Compare  §  7. 


Heredity  and  Education  91 

ential  associations  exist,  there  the  power  to  utilize  other  than 
the  associated  responses  is  in  part  interfered  with,  and  rendered 
slow  or  difficult.  Heredity,  therefore,  endows  one  with  capacity 
to  learn  by  the  gift  of  a  central  nervous  system  with  which  all 
parts  of  the  sensory  and  motor  apparatus  are  closely  connected, 
and  in  which  the  preferential  associations  tend  to  be  few  or 
feeble  and  the  amount  of  diffusion  in  nervous  currents  cor- 
respondingly great. 

This  primitive  equality  of  permeability  among  the  lines  of 
discharge  in  the  central  nervous  system  is  accompanied  by  a 
like  degree  of  sensitiveness  on  the  part  of  the  nerves  in  regard 
to  the  success  or  failure  of  any  reaction.  It  is  probable  that 
both  the  tendency  toward  diffusion  and  the  increased  sensitive- 
ness are  closely  associated  with  lack  of  well-established  synapses 
among  the  nerve  endings  and  a  large  proportion  of  gray  matter 
in  the  nerve  centers.  The  theory  that  associates  the  chemical 
activities  of  this  gray  matter  both  with  the  energies  of  read- 
justment among  the  nerve  associations  and  the  phenomena 
of  feeling  and  cognition  seems  in  a  general  way,  at  least,  in 
accord  with  facts.  In  that  event,  the  hereditary  basis  for 
education  includes  unformed  synapses  and  much  gray  matter. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  action  system  as  evolving  in  the  race  Learning  as 
under  the  pressure  of  specific  needs,  to  meet  which  the  power      enk^'n* 
to  perform  new  types  of  activity  appears.     Their  develop-      the  action 
ment  is  not  learning,  nor  is  it  primarily  for  the  sake  of  learn- 
ing.   The  power  on  the  part  of  the  individual  to  learn  means, 
then,  in  the  first  instance,  not  the  power  to  do  new  things, 
but  rather  that  of  doing  old  things  in  response  to  needs  not 
hitherto  associated  with  these  reactions.     However,  there  is 
a  sense  in  which  this  power  quickly  to  readjust  the  action 
system  to  the  needs  involves  an  actual  increase  in  the  resources 
of  the  former.     This  springs  from  increased  power  of  perform- 
ing coordinations  of  movement.    A  combination  of  movements 


92  Principles  of  Education 

may  be  so  different  in  character  and  function  from  any  of  its 
constituent  elements  as  to  rank  as  a  distinct  type  of  activity, 
a  separate  constituent  of  the  action  system.  Therefore,  the 
resources  of  such  a  system  are  composed  not  only  of  what 
might  be  called  certain  elemental  movements,  but  of  all  sorts 
of  possibilities  in  the  way  of  their  coordination.  A  nervous 
system  that  connects  various  parts  of  the  action  system 
enables  coordinated  movements.  One  that  learns  permits 
the  formation  of  new  coordinations.  From  both  causes  we 
have  a  positive  addition  to  the  resources  of  the  action  system, 
an  increase  in  the  number  of  combinations  made  possible. 
Dissociation  We  may  for  the  sake  of  analysis  distinguish  easily  two  cases 
in  which  learning  increases  the  number  of  coordinations:  (i) 
of  the  ele-  Muscles  moved  naturally  in  unison  may  be  brought  to  move 
the  action  separately,  and  in  combinations  where  each  moves  differently 
system  from  the  others,  as  when  the  movements  of  the  fingers  are 
dissociated  and  each  takes  up  a  different  task  responding  to  a 
distinct  factor  in  the  stimulus.  Such  new  coordinations  are 
well  illustrated  in  piano  playing,  in  typewriting,  in  speech, 
etc.  (2)  Serial  coordinations  may  be  built  up  in  which  the 
stimulus  to  each  successive  movement  arises  from  the  perform- 
ance of  its  habitual  predecessor  rather  than  from  the  percep- 
tion of  some  external  object  such  as  ordinarily  arouses  the 
act.  Thus,  in  spelling,  the  writing  of  a  letter  may  be  suggested 
by  the  general  thought  of  the  word  plus  the  feeling  of  the 
writing  of  the  preceding  letter,  rather  than  from  the  thought 
of  the  letter  to  be  written.  As  a  result  of  dissociation  and 
association  such  simple  serial  rhythms  as  walking,  running, 
etc.,  are  broken  up  and  reorganized  into  the  complicated 
coordinations  of  dancing  and  the  like.  Thus  the  complex- 
ity of  both  simultaneous  and  serial  coordination  is  continually 
increased  by  dissociation  of  factors  naturally  fused  and  the  re- 
organization of  these  into  new  combinations. 


Heredity  and  Education 


93 


the  evolu- 
tion of  com- 
plexity of 
movement 


The  development  of  complexity  of  movement  parallels  that  Method  of 
of  complexity  of  consciousness.  As  the  latter  begins  with  a 
vague,  undifferentiated  mass  of  sensation,  and  proceeds  through 
analysis  and  under  the  stimulus  of  succeeding  experience  to 
break  this  into  perceptions  and  sensations,  images,  and  con- 
cepts, and  all  the  rest  of  the  complicated  content  of  mature 
consciousness,  so  movements  are  at  first  crude  mass  movements 
rather  than  coordinations,  and  later  through  analysis  and 
new  syntheses  they  become  the  fine  adjustments  of  skill.  A 
similar  history  appears  in  the  evolution  of  a  species.  Professor 
Loeb  has  spoken  of  instinctive  acts  as  ''bundles  of  reflexes,"1 
thus  implying  that  the  simple  elements  preceded  the  complex 
organization,  and  that  by  their  union  they  make  it  up.  The 
more  usual  case  is  where  the  reflex  represents  a  special  minute 
adjustment  that  is  evolved  in  the  course  of  the  development 
and  organization  of  instinctive  tendencies.  Professor  Jennings 
points  out  that  the  actions  of  primitive  organisms  are  not, 
strictly  speaking,  reflex.  This  is  because  "the  reaction  to  a 
given  stimulus  depends  on  the  physiological  state  of  the  organ- 
ism, not  alone  on  its  anatomical  structure ;  and  physiological 
states  are  variable."  2  The  movements  of  simple  forms  of 
life  resemble  instinctive  activities  rather  than  reflexes,  in 
that  they  spring  from  some  general  need  of  the  body  and 
involve  a  movement  of  at  least  a  large  part  of  it,  in  that  they 
depend  on  internal  conditions  quite  as  much  as  upon  external 
stimuli,  and  in  that  they  are  replaced  by  other  movements 
in  case  the  first  reactions  are  unsuccessful.  The  reflexes  in 
the  higher  organisms  represent  localized  reactions  that  are 
in  great  measure  rendered  necessary  because  of  the  develop- 
ment of  special  organs  with  such  definite  adjustments  to  exter- 
nal conditions  that  the  control  of  these  adjustments  is  largely 

1  Comparative  Physiology  of  the  Brain. 
1  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  p.  280. 


94  Principles  of  Education 

a  matter  of  mere  mechanical  reaction  to  outer  stimuli.  The 
accommodation  of  the  lens  in  the  eye  to  the  distance  of  the 
perceived  object  is  apparently  an  ideal  example.  However, 
even  this  mechanical  reaction  is  dependent  not  only  on  the 
external  stimulus,  but  also  on  the  internal  condition  of  mental 
attention,  and  such  reflexes  as  winking  and  sneezing  can 
be  utilized  in  emergencies  far  different  from  those  to  which 
they  are  the  automatic  response.  Thus  the  reflex,  specialized 
though  it  may  be,  is  susceptible  to  a  certain  amount  of  internal 
control  and  to  utilization  for  other  than  its  specifically  appro- 
priate emergencies. 
Power  to  The  powers  of  coordination  and  of  learning  to  coordinate  lie 

for**    back   of   the   differentiation   of   the  action  system.    This  is 


the  differ-     ^rue  for  fag  very  sjmpie  reason  that  specialization  is  impossible 

entiation  of  .     •  .      .  ,      .  . 

the  action  without  cooperation.  Differentiation  and  integration  are 
complementary,  and  for  successful  living  inseparable.  Thus 
the  evolution  of  a  central  nervous  system  with  its  powers  of 
organization  and  reorganization  means  the  evolution  of  the 
condition  under  which  the  action  system  is  permitted  to  dif- 
ferentiate and  become  highly  specialized.  The  enlargement 
of  the  resources  of  learning  comes  as  an  outgrowth  of  the 
capacity  to  utilize  these  resources  in  readjustment.  Central 
coordinating  power  not  only  enables  the  addition  of  complex 
movements  to  the  simple  ones  already  possible,  but  it  opens 
the  opportunity  for  the  evolution  of  new  simple  adjustments 
so  specialized  as  to  be  useless  until  they  are  combined  with 
others. 
Learning  as  We  have  spoken  of  learning  as  though  it  were  concerned 

tioTof  the  s°lety  in  the  refitting  of  the  action  system  to  the  instincts. 

instincts  Such  is,  indeed,  its  primary  function.  The  service  of  sensi- 
tivity to  this  process  is  merely  that  of  stimulus  and  guide. 
However,  sensitivity  has  a  second  function,  in  which  it  co- 
operates with  the  power  of  association  to  modify  and  differ- 


Heredity  and  Education  95 

entiate  the  instincts  which  it  serves.  We  learn  to  be  sensitive 
to  conditions  that  were  not  at  first  provocative  of  unrest. 
We  cease  to  feel  the  force  of  wants  that  earlier  tended  to  over- 
master us.  Thus  we  learn  not  merely  to  satisfy  instincts  in 
ways  other  than  the  customary  ones,  but  also  to  change  the 
relative  vigor  of  our  original  instincts  as  a  result  of  the  conflicts 
and  associations  of  experience. 

It  has  been  the  purpose  of  this  section  to  state  the  simplest  Summary 
hereditary  conditions  of  learning,  leaving  elaboration  to  sub- 
sequent discussions.  We  have  seen  that  power  to  learn  de- 
pends on  the  number  and  variety  of  the  instincts,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  resources  of  the  action  system,  on  the  other. 
But  this  complex  equipment  would  not  help  the  possessor 
in  learning  unless  he  also  were  endowed  with  the  power  to 
readjust  the  action  system  to  the  instincts.  Such  power  comes 
through  sensitivity  and  a  central  system  of  nerves  affected  by 
all  the  wants,  and  in  turn  capable  of  stimulating  all  or  most 
of  the  responses  that  the  individual  can  make.  Both  condi- 
tions are  met  in  the  domination  of  the  cerebral  cortex  with  its 
abundance  of  gray  matter  and  its  multitudinous  paths  of 
association.  Defining  automatic,  reflex,  and  instinctive  acts 
as  hereditarily  preferred  reactions  to  certain  instincts,  the 
forms  of  activity  of  those  who  can  learn  would  tend  less  and 
less  to  be  of  such  a  character,  and  so  devoted  solely  or  mainly 
to  the  use  of  single  instincts,  and  to  become  more  and  more 
random  results  of  diffused  nervous  discharges,  calculated  to 
evince  many  new  uses  and  thus  to  furnish  the  material  for  the 
new  or  acquired  preferential  associations  of  habit. 

Moreover,  the  power  of  coordination  of  such  a  central 
nervous  system  enables  an  expansion  of  the  action  system 
through  the  addition  of  new  complex  organizations  of  activity 
to  the  simple  primitive  ones,  and  through  offering  an  oppor- 
tunity for  the  evolution  of  specialized  activities  that  would 


96  Principles  of  Education 

be  useless  except  in  large  coordinations.  Finally,  the  associa- 
tive power  of  the  brain  permits  us  to  learn  not  only  how  to 
satisfy  our  wants,  but  also  what  it  is  better  to  want.  Thus 
we  may  reorganize  the  ranking  of  the  factors  to  which  sensi- 
tivity is  attached,  and  this  again  is  an  important  phase  of 
learning. 

SECTION  10.    Education  as  supplementing  heredity 

The  function  of  heredity  is,  of  course,  essentially  conserva- 

tive.    The  discontinuities  established  because  of  reproduction 

it  mends  in  part  by  restoring  to  the  young  about  the  same 

equipment  of  adjustments  and  resources  as  that  with  which 

the  parents  began  life.     It  is  racial  habit,  —  that  upon  which 

the   species   can   rely   as    comparatively   permanent,  —  as   a 

capital  not  to  be  impaired  by  the  gains  or  losses  of  any  gen- 

eration.    In  proportion  as  environments  are  indeterminately 

variable,    these   acquired   characters   become   numerous   and 

indispensable  to  mature  life.     Many,  indeed,  most  of  them, 

Human          it  might  be  of  advantage  to  preserve.     Each  generation  has 

Led  To  re-  *°  learn  habits  of  speech,  of  manners  and  morals,  of  occupa- 

leam  most  tions,  of  dress,  and  of  countless  other  things  that  it  might  seem 

quired         economical  for  them  to  get  by  heredity.     However,  the  indis- 


Pensakle  capacity  for  readjustment  must  be  bought,  even  at 
parents       such  a  price. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  waste  is,  in  part  at  least,  remedied 
by  the  function  to  enable  which  it  is  incurred.  The  greater 
the  power  to  learn,  the  more  readily  the  new  generation  can 
regain  such  of  the  acquired  characters  of  its  parents  as  seem 
necessary  or  desirable.  The  process  of  learning  these  ancestral 
ways  is,  of  course,  education,  and  in  performing  this  service 
education  is  a  conservative  agency  and  supplements  heredity. 
This  function  of  education  is,  however,  a  secondary  one. 


Heredity  and  Education  97 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  individual,  learning  is  always  Recapituia- 
readjustment,   change,   ordinarily   progress.     When,  however, 
this  process   concerns  itself  with   relearning    the    characters      supple- 
previously  acquired  by  the  parent,  education  becomes  from      heredity 
the  point  of  view  of  the  race  a  factor  making  for  conservation 
rather  than  for  advance.     Education  devoted  to  this  secondary 
function  we  may  call  recapitulatory. 

Recapitulatory   education    that   takes   place   by   the   hard  Social  hered- 
method  of  unassisted  individual  experience  has  nothing  about      ^d  to  re- 
it  except  its  conservative  effect  to  ally  it  with  heredity.     But      capituia- 
when  agencies  appear  that  tend  to  aid  it,  these  may  well  be      education 
regarded  as  instrumentalities  of  heredity  as  well  as  of  educa- 
tion.    Such  an  agency  is  social  intercourse,  by  which  the  young 
of  a  species  endowed  with  power  to  learn  may  acquire  with 
greater  rapidity  the  practices  of  their  ancestry.     The  relearn- 
ing of  the  acquired  characters  of  the  race  through  the  aid  of 
social  intercourse  has  been  aptly  called  by  Professor  Baldwin 
"social  heredity."  1 

Save  when  it  takes  the  form  of  social  heredity,  recapitula-  interdepend- 
tory  education  is  very  limited  in  scope.     However,  society  is,      ^jety  and 
as  it  were,  ready  and  waiting  to  perform  this  function.     Ca-      education 
pacity  to  learn,  the  non-inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  and 
the  immaturity  of  infancy  involve  each  other.     But  infancy 
involves  parental  fosterage,   and  this  means,   as  Mr.   Fiske 
points  out,2  the  existence  of  society,  at  any  rate  in  the  form 
of  a  family  consisting  of  mother  and  offspring.     The  coopera- 
tion of  the  male  parent  in  the  care  of  the  young  makes  it 
possible  for  them  to  be  even  more  helpless,  and  hence  there 
results  to  the  species  the  advantage  of  greater  power  to  learn. 
Society  has  a  selection  value  because  of  the  importance  of  the 
educability  that  it  makes  possible,  and  even  though  it  had  no 

1  Mental  Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  Ch.  II. 
1  Compare  Through  Nature  to  God. 


98 


Principles  of  Education 


other  function  this  would  doubtless  account  for  the  tendency 
of  evolution  in  its  direction.  But  the  social  intercourse  that 
exists  primarily  to  foster  the  immature  during  the  period  of 
learning  is  utilized  to  hasten  the  process  of  reacquiring  the 
parental  habits.  Parental  fosterage  enables  the  growth  of 
capacity  to  learn,  and  this  in  turn  profits  by  the  social  inter- 
course that  it  requires.  Thus  such  intercourse  becomes 
parental  training,  and  social  heredity  is  born. 

The  interdependence  of  society  and  education  will  be  dis- 
cussed further  in  the  next  chapter.  The  aim  of  this  section 
is  to  point  out,  first,  how  education  repairs  the  loss  incurred 
for  its  own  sake,  and  in  the  form  of  recapitulatory  education 
supplements  heredity  by  handing  on  acquired  characters  ; 
and  second,  how  society,  indispensable  to  the  protection  of 
immature  infancy,  combines  with  the  capacity  to  learn  to 
aid  the  process  of  recapitulation,  thus  giving  rise  to  social 
heredity. 

Advantage  It  will  be  interesting  to  note  that  social  heredity  revives 
overphysi-  somewhat  the  inflexibility  of  its  physiological  prototype.  It 
constrains  the  individual  to  follow  conservative  methods, 
even  though,  if  untrammeled,  he  might  find  better  ones. 
However,  there  is  this  advantage.  Physiological  heredity 
can  be  modified  only  by  the  slow  and  savage  process  of  natural 
selection  working  upon  variations  in  the  drift  of  heredity  it- 
self. On  the  other  hand,  social  heredity,  however  tyrannical 
it  may  be,  can  be  revolutionized  if  man  so  wills.  In  general, 
it  occupies,  so  far  as  regards  the  conservatism  of  its  effects, 
an  intermediate  position  between  physiological  heredity,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  uncontrolled  individualism,  on  the  other.  The 
complex  question  of  its  evolution  will  be  resumed  in  the  next 
chapter. 


Heredity  and  Education  99 

SECTION  n.    Education  as  antagonizing  heredity 

In  spite  of  all  her  safeguards  Nature  usually  endows  her  Persistence 
children  with  a  partially  undesirable  physiological  inheritance. 
For  this  case  there  are  two  remedies:  Either  selection  may 
root  out  those  who  are  seriously  handicapped,  carrying  with 
them  their  prospective  progeny,  —  a  procedure  good  for  the 
race  but  severe  on  the  individual,  —  or  education,  more  kind 
to  the  victim  of  a  bad  inheritance,  may  strive  to  protect  both 
him  and  society  from  its  dangerous  consequences. 

Among  the  undesirable  inheritances  we  may  include  both 
instincts  and  instinctive  acts.  Some  wants  may  with  evolu- 
tion, and  especially  with  advance  to  civilization,  become  less 
important.  Indeed,  many  of  the  minor  instincts  may  cease 
to  be  desirable  at  all.  Fear  and  anger  are  certainly  far  less 
useful  than  they  have  been,  and,  if  not  largely  suppressed,  do 
more  harm  than  good.  Christianity  maintains  that  the  special 
instinct  for  vengeance  should  disappear  altogether.  Various 
cults  have  made  war  upon  this  or  that  instinct,  so  that  very 
few  have  escaped  the  hostility  of  some  idealists.  It  may 
safely  be  said  that  enlightened  humanity  favors  a  far  different 
adjustment  among  the  inherent  desires  than  Nature  is  wont 
to  provide.  The  undesirability  of  native  tendencies  is  still 
more  evident  in  the  case  of  the  instinctive  acts.  Civilization 
has  little  use  for  the  inherent  methods  of  gratifying  fear,  anger, 
curiosity,  sexual  love,  rivalry,  etc.  In  respect  to  them  educa- 
tion has  not  only  the  task  of  establishing  approved  habits,  but 
also  that  of  breaking  up  old  preferential  associations. 

In  discussing  the  question  of  how  this  control  is  brought   Types  of  in- 
about  we  may  begin  by  considering  a  classification  of  instinc-      survivals 
tive  acts  from  the  point  of  view  of  their  history  and  general 
function,     (i)  A  great  number  of  them  retain  for  man  to-day 
their  original  use  in  the  way  of  bringing  about  desirable  rela- 


ioo  Principles  of  Education 

tions  with  objects  in  the  environment.  This  use  may  be 
quite  as  great  as  it  has  ever  been  in  the  history  of  the  species; 
for  example,  such  acts  as  nursing  or  walking.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  may  have  come  to  be  comparatively  rare,  as  in  the 
cases  of  striking  from  anger,  or  of  flight  from  fear.  (2)  Many 
instinctive  acts  have  wholly  lost  their  original  use.  Such  is 
probably  true  of  unfleshing  the  teeth,  or  biting  from  anger,  or 
paralysis  from  fear.  Acts  of  this  class  are  either  simply  sur- 
vivals with  no  present  function,  or  they  have  been  transferred 
to  the  social  use  of  indicating  to  others  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
person  who  performs  them.  The  instinctive  expressions  have 
had  in  most  cases  this  social  value  from  the  beginning.  With 
evolution,  the  other  uses,  if  they  existed,  have  disappeared, 
leaving  only  that  of  expression.  (3)  With  the  growth  of  power  of 
association  instinctive  acts  may  come  to  constitute  the  response 
to  stimuli  analogous  to  those  to  which  they  were  originally 
attached.  Professor  James  calls  this  the  "  principle  of  react- 
ing similarly  to  analogous-feeling  stimuli."1  An  illustration  is 
the  making  of  a  wry  face  when  some  disagreeable  situation 
appears,  although  it  may  not  in  the  least  appeal  to  the  sense  of 
taste.  (4)  Finally,  we  have  that  large  class  of  internal  disturb- 
ances that  constitute,  according  to  the  James-Lange  theory ? 
the  basis  of  the  emotions.  They  affect  mainly  the  processes 
connected  with  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  secretion,  digestion, 
and  respiration.  Their  function  is  in  many  cases  plainly  to 
further  the  external  acts  by  which  the  situations  that  arouse 
the  emotions  may  be  satisfactorily  dealt  with.  Thus  the 
roused  heart  beat  may  furnish  the  increased  blood  supply 
for  more  vigorous  action. 

Professor  Dewey  is  inclined  to  attribute  to  these  internal 
emotional  disturbances  the  general  function  of  providing  the 
energy  that  stimulates  and  fosters  readjustment. 
1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXV. 


Heredity  and  Education 


101 


"Whenever  there  is  difficulty  in  effecting  adjustment  of 
means  and  ends,  the  agent  is  thrown  into  a  condition  of  emo- 
tion. Whenever  we  have  on  one  side  the  idea  corresponding 
to  some  end  or  object,  and  whenever  we  have  on  the  other  side 
a  stirring  up  of  the  active  impulses  and  habits,  together  with 
a  tendency  of  the  latter  to  focus  themselves  at  once  upon  the 
former,  there  we  have  a  disturbance  or  agitation,  known  on 
its  psychical  side  as  emotion.  It  is  a  commonplace  that,  as 
fast  as  habit  gets  definitely  formed  in  relation  to  its  own 
special  end,  the  feeling  element  drops  out.  Now  let  the  usual 
end  to  which  the  habit  is  adapted  be  taken  away  and  a  sudden 
demand  be  made  for  the  old  habit  to  become  a  means  toward 
a  new  end,  and  emotional  stress  at  once  becomes  urgent. 
The  active  side  becomes  all  stirred  up,  but  neither  discharges 
itself  at  once,  without  any  end,  nor  yet  directs  itself  toward 
any  accustomed  end.  The  result  is  tension  between  habit 
and  aim,  between  impulse  and  idea,  between  means  and  end. 
This  tension  is  the  essential  feature  of  emotion. 

"It  is  obvious  from  this  account  that  the  function  of  emo- 
tion is  to  secure  a  sufficient  arousing  of  energy  in  critical  peri- 
ods of  the  life  of  the  agent.  When  the  end  is  new  or  unusual 
and  there  is  great  difficulty  in  attending  to  it,  the  natural 
tendency  would  be  to  let  it  go  or  to  turn  away  from  it.  But 
the  very  newness  of  the  end  often  represents  the  importance 
of  the  demand  that  is  being  made.  To  neglect  the  end  would 
be  a  serious  if  not  fatal  matter  for  the  agent.  The  very 
difficulty  in  effecting  the  adjustment  sends  out  successive 
waves  of  stimuli,  which  call  into  play  more  impulses  and  hab- 
its, thus  reenforcing  the  powers,  resources,  at  the  agent's  com- 
mand. The  function  of  emotion  is  thus  to  brace  or  reenforce 
the  agent  in  coping  with  the  novel  element  in  unexpected  and 
immediate  situations."  1 

It  is  evident  that  each  of  these  four  classes  of  instinctive 
acts  may  prove  disadvantageous  to  its  possessor.  In  general, 
the  utilities  that  have  remained  most  stable  are  those  con- 
nected with  expression  and  with  the  emotional  disturbances 

1  Interest  in  Relation  to  the  Training  of  the  Will. 


Organic  emo- 
tional dis- 
turbances 
due  to  ten- 
sion be- 
tween habit 
and  aim 


Such  tension 
useful    in 
stimulat- 
ing read- 
justment 


Present  need 
of  control 
of  most  in- 
stinctive 
acts 


IO2  Principles  of  Education 

that  further  readjustment.  Instinctive  methods  of  getting 
results  have  with  civilization  come  under  the  ban,  and  have 
been  replaced  by  habits  far  more  consonant  with  social  welfare. 
Even  the  instinctive  forms  of  expression  are  usually  replaced 
by  quieter  methods,  and  the  emotional  disturbances  are  feared 
lest  they  lead  to  a  loss  by  the  will  of  its  grip  upon  conduct. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  variation  and  selection  as  help- 
ing on  in  the  process  of  removing  hereditary  obstacles  to  success. 
There  can  be  little  doubt  that  these  agencies  have  been  through- 
out the  evolution  of  civilization  at  work  slowly  to  transform 
the  instinctive  equipment  of  the  advancing  races.  According 
to  Sutherland:  — 

"The  moral  instinct,  therefore,  is,  in  social  animals,  the 
result  of  that  selective  process  among  the  emotions  which 
tends  to  encourage  those  that  are  mutually  helpful  and  to 
weaken  those  that  are  mutually  harmful."1 

Selection  accomplishes  this  result,  not  merely  by  the  elimi- 
nation or  subordination  of  instinctive  acts  hostile  to  social 
welfare,  but  also  by  encouraging  their  evolution  into  deferred 
or  imperfect  tendencies.  Thus  it  opens  the  way  for  control 
by  education. 

Two  methods       In  the  endeavor  to  master  the  hereditary  activities  two 

Unglnstinc-  methods  have  been  employed  by  education:  one  negative,  the 

tive  acts       other  positive.     The  negative  method  bends  all  its  energies 

Defects  of     toward   a   direct   suppression    of    undesirable    reactions.     As 

tiveene<         these  are  for  the  most  part  closely  associated  with  emotional 

disturbances,  negative  discipline  aims  at  asceticism,  or,  better, 

indifferentism.     This    policy    is    generally    recognized    to    be 

faulty  in  the  extreme.    It  neglects  to  take  account  of  the  fact 

that  the  tendency  to  react  to  situations  in  some  positive  way 

is  inevitable.     Inhibition  is  never  by  mere  elimination.     Its 

1  Origin  and  Development  oj  the  Moral  Instinct,  Vol.  II,  p.  304. 


Heredity  and  Education  103 

primary  result  is,  as  Professor  Dewey  says,  emotional  disturb- 
ance, and  its  secondary  one,  some  consequent  reaction.  Thus 
it  becomes  effective  by  the  positive  method  of  substitution. 
To  attend  only  to  the  negative  phase  of  control  is  to  omit  to 
consider  the  desirability  of  the  substituted  reactions  by  which 
alone  such  control  can  be  achieved. 

Substitution  aims  to  establish  one  preferential  association  Control  by 
instead  of  another.  It  is  greatly  facilitated  by  deferred  ^stl 
maturity  in  the  associations  that  it  is  desired  to  replace. 
When  one  becomes  accustomed  to  react  toward  objects  in  a 
certain  way,  the  instinctive  tendency  to  react  differently 
will,  if  it  appears  later,  very  likely  be  inhibited.  Thus  we 
may  create  what  is  commonly  known  as  a  "happy  family," 
where  lions  and  lambs,  foxes  and  fowls  consort  together  in 
amity.  The  instinctive  hostility  of  these  species  is  for  all 
ordinary  occasions  forestalled  by  habits  that  are  formed  before 
the  tendencies  have  grown  strong.  Whether  fear  of  the  dark 
is  instinctive  or  not,  a  child  may  be  so  habituated  to  it  that 
without  encouragement  the  tendency  will  either  not  appear 
or  be  very  mild.  An  inherent  weakness  that  predisposes 
toward  intemperance  in  drink  may  not  display  itself  if  the 
antagonistic  habits  are  well  formed.  So,  too,  the  mating  im- 
pulse, because  it  is  so  long  deferred,  may,  in  spite  of  its  strength, 
be  completely  suppressed  so  far  as  its  normal  expression  is 
concerned. 

Substitution  may  effect  either  of  two  results:  It  may  cause   Substitution 
certain  instincts,  when  they  are  roused,  to  result  in  acts  which      ™action3° 
have  been  made  their  response  by  training  rather  than  in  the      or  of  in- 
acts  instinctively  associated  with  them.     Thus  we  may  when 
angry  strive  to  punish  the  occasion  of  our  wrath  by  treating 
him  with  contempt  or  by  stinging  retorts  rather  than  by  a 
physical  attack.     On  the  other  hand,  substitution  may  strive 
to  associate  certain  objects  with  instincts  other  than  those 


IO4  Principles  of  Education 

which  by  heredity  they  tend  to  arouse.     Professor  James  has 
it  in  mind  in  making  the  following  statement :  — 

"Another  sort  of  arrest  of  instincts  by  habits  is  where  the 
same  class  of  objects  awakens  contrary  instinctive  impulses. 
Here  the  impulse  first  followed  toward  a  given  individual 
of  the  class  is  apt  to  keep  him  from  ever  awakening  the  con- 
trary impulse  in  us.  In  fact  the  whole  class  may  be  protected 
by  this  individual  specimen  from  the  application  to  it  of  this 
individual  impulse."  x 

This  sort  of  substitution  may  be  illustrated  in  the  training 
of  wild  animals,  in  the  cultivation  of  the  instinct  to  save 
rather  than  to  use,  or  that  of  treating  strangers  hospitably 
rather  than  of  looking  upon  them  with  suspicion.  It  involves 
a  readjustment  in  regard  to  the  inherent  sensitivity  of  various 
instincts.  Some  are  encouraged  by  being  habitually  attached 
to  objects  that  naturally  rouse  others.  Thus  the  others 
atrophy  for  lack  of  occasion  to  display  themselves. 

illustration  The  methods  and  effects  of  substitution  in  reorganizing 
troiofemo-  nereditary  tendencies  can,  perhaps,  best  be  illustrated  in  the 
tionai  ex-  case  of  emotions  and  the  expressions  of  emotion.  Every  in- 
stinct has  its  emotional  side,  mild  or  intense,  depending  upon 
the  character  of  the  emergency  and  the  nature  of  the  person 
who  faces  it.  Moreover,  the  range  of  emotional  expression 
includes  all  four  classes  of  instinctive  acts  that  were  dis- 
tinguished earlier  in  the  section.  Thus  the  emotion  and  its 
expression  include  all  the  factors  involved  in  the  readjust- 
ments we  are  considering.  Taking  the  example  of  anger,  a 
child  with  an  hereditary  disposition  to  become  violently 
wrathful  might  be  carefully  dealt  with  on  occasions  that  excite 
the  emotion,  until  gradually  it  becomes  accustomed  to  regard 
these  situations  in  such  ways  as  appeal  to  its  sympathies,  its 
sense  of  humor,  its  knowledge  of  consequences,  etc.  It  will, 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  II,  p.  395. 


Heredity  and  Education  105 

however,  probably  be  impossible,  as  well  as  undesirable, 
entirely  to  prevent  the  appearance  of  the  emotion.  Never- 
theless, when  it  is  roused,  its  manifestations  in  merely  instinc- 
tive ways  may  be  inhibited  by  well-bred  methods  of  attack 
or  defense.  If  these  are  successful  in  meeting  the  emergency, 
the  occasion  for  anger  has  disappeared. 

If,  however,  the  emergency  cannot  be  regarded  as  other  than 
exasperating,  and  if  habitual  or  intelligently  controlled  methods 
of  dealing  with  it  fail  of  effect,  then  the  emotion  usually  grows 
more  violent,  and  the  primitive  instinctive  reactions  are  apt 
to  be  evoked.  Emotion,  functioning  on  Dewey's  theory 
as  the  stimulus  to  readjustment,  provokes  the  brute  heredi- 
tary responses  as  a  final  resort.  Suppose,  however,  that  the 
occasion  is  one  where  according  to  social  standards  such  reac- 
tions are  not  permissible.  For  example,  one  may  not  strike 
a  woman.  Here  the  remedy  lies  in  the  cultivation  of  an 
intense  repugnance  for  this  particular  sort  of  act,  such  that 
the  barest  anticipation  of  it  would  cause  its  inhibition.  In  this 
case  the  instinctive  act  is  trained  by  association  to  rouse  an 
instinct  or  feeling  that  paralyzes  and  so  replaces  it. 

We  have  then  the  following  phases  in  the  control  of  the   Phases  of 
emotion:    (i)  the  substitution  of  contrary  emotions  habitually      ^j  ( 
associated  with  its  instinctive  stimuli,  (2)    the  substitution  of 
habitual  expressions  for  instinctive  ones,  (3)    the  inhibition  of 
some    instinctive   expressions   by   emotions   which    they   are 
trained  to  rouse.     Under  these  conditions  we  may  suppose 
that  no  emergency  will  excite  a  certain  emotion  unless  in  the 
nature  of  the  case  the  vigorous  effort  that  will  thereby  be 
stimulated  is  necessary.     In  that  event,  the  first  effect  of  the 
emotion  will  be  mild  intellectual  excitement  with  habitual   Emotion  as 
activity  under  conscious  control.     Here  emotion  favors  con- 
centration of  attention,  presence  of  mind.     When  such  methods      and  absence 
fail  to  remove  the  difficulty,  we  may  suppose  that  the  time  has 


Principles  of  Education 

come  for  more  primitive  desperate  measures,  such  as  could  not 
be  initiated  in  reflective  attitudes  of  mind.  Hence  the  more 
intense  emotion,  scattering  the  attention  and  producing 
absence  of  mind,  finds  its  function,  and  brings  about  more 
violent  instinctive  or  random  reactions  as  a  last  resource. 
Even  here,  however,  it  is  possible  to  inhibit  certain  intoler- 
able acts  by  associating  them  firmly  with  counteracting 
emotions. 

Emotions  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  the  emotion  itself  according 

™ressedSUby  to  tne  James-Lange  theory  is  to  be  controlled,  at  least  in 
reaction  to  part,  by  substantially  the  last  of  these  methods.  For  if  the 
pression  expressions  of  emotion  give  rise  to  the  emotion  itself,  as  these 
psychologists  affirm,  all  that  is  necessary  to  control  it  is  to 
inhibit  these  expressions.  This  may  be,  and  is,  in  fact,  most 
frequently  done  by  training  the  individual  to  be  sensitive  to 
the  exhibition  of  self  involved  in  these  expressions,  or  to  other 
objectionable  features  connected  with  them.  Thus  the  emo- 
tion is  provided  with  a  safety  valve  by  which  it  can  check  its 
own  extremes.  Herein  lies  the  oft-mentioned  relieving  or 
homeopathic  effect  of  emotional  expression.  It  distracts  the 
attention  from  that  which  excites  it  and  thus  allows  the  emo- 
tion to  subside. 

The  fact  that  an  emotional  state  has  a  tendency  to  call  into 
activity  latent  instinctive  tendencies  that  may  be  undesirable 
is  the  basis  of  the  somewhat  common  notion  that  it  exists  to 
be  repressed  rather  than  utilized.  This  conception  has  ap- 
peared continuously  in  educational  theory,  especially  that  of 
those  whose  ideal  was  discipline.  Even  Herbart,  who  was 
far  enough  from  being  a  disciplinarian,  looked  upon  emotion  as 
something  to  be  put  down. 

Herbart  on         "The  more  perfectly  the  human  and  especially  the  male 
the  control  organism  develops,  the  less  is  to  be  seen  of  all  these  emotions 

of  emotion    >       .  v  i  •      j         ,.         ,       •,  .  ,      ,  . 

in  the  sphere  of  educational  observation,  and  this,  too,  as 


Heredity  and  Education  107 

early  as  the  later  years  of  boyhood  and  the  beginnings  of 
youth."  * 

Herbart  distinguishes  between  feeling  and  emotion,  con- 
demning the  view  that  the  latter  is  simply  stronger  feeling. 
Feelings,  he  thinks,  may  be  profound  and  yet  not  disturb 
our  equanimity,  whereas  emotion  always  involves  a  bodily 
disturbance  that  is  likely  to  prove  a  hindrance  to  the  assimi- 
lation or  utilization  of  experience.  Feeling  is  valuable  in  that 
it  always  enhances  the  efficiency  of  ideas  ;  emotion  interferes 
and,  in  Herbart's  own  phrase,  " makes  feeling  dull." 

It  is  the  merit  of  Professor  Dewey's  view  that  it  establishes 
the  continuity  in  nature  and  function  between  feeling  and  emo- 
tion. However,  the  more  violent  emotional  disturbances  do 
interfere  with  thought,  and  cause  a  resort  to  mere  instinctive 
forms  of  activity.  Hence,  Herbart  and  common  opinion  are 
right  in  drawing  a  distinction  between  the  feelings  or  milder 
emotions,  which  are  the  dynamic  elements  of  thought,  and 
the  intense  emotions,  with  which  education  has  nothing  to  do 
except  in  the  way  of  antagonism. 

In  conclusion,  we  may  say  that  heredity  leaves  education  Summary 
much  to  undo.  Many  instincts  and  instinctive  acts  are  no 
longer  useful,  except,  perhaps,  in  extremes.  Some  are  unde- 
sirable or  even  dangerous.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  more 
violent  emotions  and  their  expression,  which  may  be  taken 
as  the  type  of  that  which  education  must  control  or  suppress. 
Control  can  never  be  by  mere  negative  discipline,  but  must 
proceed  by  the  positive  method  of  substitution.  This  method 
is  made  easier  in  application  when  the  instinctive  tendencies 
are  deferred.  In  any  case,  it  aims  to  associate  with  desirable 
instincts  and  emotions,  the  objects  or  situations  that  would  nat- 
urally arouse  undesirable  ones,  and  to  forestall  objectionable 
instinctive  responses  to  these  emotions  by  establishing  more 

1  Contributions  of  Psychology  to  Education,  Letter  XIII. 


io8  Principles  of  Education 

satisfactory  habitual  ones  before  nature  has  had  its  way 
and  hardened  its  tendencies  into  habits.  When  education 
has  done  its  work  properly,  it  may  be  hoped  that  the  intenser 
emotions  will  never  appear  except  where  a  resort  to  daring 
instinctive  experimentation  is  necessary.  Even  here  intoler- 
able responses  may  be  paralyzed  by  training  inhibiting  emo- 
tions to  play  the  watchdog  upon  them. 


CHAPTER  IV 


EDUCATION   AND    SOCIETY 

SECTION  12.    Early  evolution  of  social  heredity 
THE  uses  of  society  have  been  alluded  to  from  time  to  time.   Fundamental 


At  the  foundation  of  them  all  lies  the  function  of  providing 
for  the  individual  security  against  conditions  that  might  over- 
whelm him  in  isolation.  Of  all  the  many  phases  of  this  secur- 
ity, that  which  consists  in  the  parental  care  of  the  young  while 
they  are  receiving  their  education,  and  which  supplements 
this  care  by  positive  instruction,  is  probably  the  most  impor- 
tant. For  without  it  immaturity  could  not  exist,  and,  there- 
fore, all  the  racial  flexibility  that  comes  through  non-inherit- 
ance of  acquired  characters  and  great  capacity  for  education 
would  be  impossible.  Society  may  be  conceived  as  the  pack 
that  hunts  more  effectively  from  cooperation,  as  the  granary 
that  sustains  the  individual  when  his  daily  search  for  food  is 
unsuccessful,  as  the  army  that  protects  him  against  foreign 
enemies  or  the  constable  that  preserves  his  personal  rights, 
as  the  organization  of  industry  to  utilize  the  division  of  labor ; 
but  behind  all  these  functions  lies  that  ultimate  one  of  parent 
and  schoolmaster.  Society  is  primarily  an  educational  insti- 
tution. 

The  utility  of  society  determines  the  incidence  of  evolution 
toward  a  social  regime.  Natural  selection  in  the  upper  strata 
of  life  wars  upon  the  non-social.  "  United  we  stand,  divided 
we  fall"  is  an  epitome  of  the  history  of  earlier  civilization. 

109 


function 
of  society 
that  of 
education 


no  Principles  of  Education 

Whatever  makes  for  social  solidarity  is,  therefore,  at  a  premium 
in  the  struggle  for  existence.  The  social  qualities  are,  of  course, 
fundamentally  hereditary.  But  they  are  also  partly  a  product 
of  education.  We  have  parental,  social,  and  moral  instincts, 
but  they  amount  to  little  unless  cultivated  in  the  proper  en- 
vironment. We  may  expect  instinct  and  training  to  sup- 
plement each  other  more  and  more  effectively  as  society 
evolves. 

stages  in  the  The  history  of  this  evolution  is  the  history  of  education, 
lution  of°"  Each  stage  in  the  process  brings  into  play  new  powers,  per- 
sociai  he-  naps  new  instincts,  and  cultivates  these  capacities  more 

redity:  \ 

assiduously. 

,(i)  Parental  The  beginning  of  this  evolutionary  process  is  found  in  paren- 
fosterage  ^j  fosterage.  Sutherland  x  traces  the  steps  by  which  the  task 
of  perpetuating  the  race  is  taken  more  and  more  from  extraor- 
dinary fecundity,  and  placed  upon  better  methods  of  preserv- 
ing the  young  that  are  brought  forth.  Among  these  are  devices 
that  make  more  certain  the  fertilization  of  the  eggs,  guarding 
the  eggs,  hatching  them  by  the  warmth  of  the  body,  nest 
building,  the  evolution  of  the  placenta  and  of  vivaparous 
reproduction.  In  these  advances,  made  with  almost  incon- 
ceivable slowness  through  countless  ages,  we  see  the  biologic 
preparation  for  parental  fosterage.  In  every  case  the  progress 
is  in  the  direction  of  greater  economy,  fewer  offspring,  and 
greater  care  of  those  that  are  born. 

Thus,  according  to  Sutherland,  parental  fosterage  originates 
as  an  outcome  of  evolution  in  the  direction  of  greater  economy 
in  reproduction,  prevention  of  the  waste  of  life.  In  a  sense  it 
is  a  negative  factor,  merely  protecting  the  young,  but  not 
equipping  them  with  positive  adjustments.  However,  the 
evolution  of  fosterage  permits  readjustment  by  rejuvenation 
to  become  more  and  more  prominent.  Thus  it  enables  the 
1  Compare  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct. 


Education  and  Society 


in 


evolution  of  capacity  to  learn.  This  in  turn  transforms  the 
social  relation  of  parent  and  offspring  into  an  educative  one. 
Mere  negative  fosterage  becomes  positive  training.  Com- 
panionship evolves  from  protection  into  education,  by  the 
mere  growth  on  the  part  of  the  young  of  the  power  to  profit 
by  it  in  acquiring  the  habits  of  their  parents. 

With  the  growth  of  power  to  learn  the  instinct  of  parental 
fosterage  becomes  supplemented  by  a  tendency  to  aid  the  young 
in  their  work  of  development.  The  beginnings  of  this  instinct 
to  teach  may  be  noted  in  the  lower  animals.1  The  classic 
example  is  that  of  the  birds  striving  to  teach  their  young  how 
to  fly.  Such  instruction  amounts  to  little  more  than  forcing 
the  nestlings  to  use  their  powers,  but  it  undoubtedly  facilitates 
the  process  of  maturation,  and  cuts  short  the  period  during 
which  the  efficiency  of  the  family  group  is  crippled  by  the  help- 
lessness of  some  of  its  members.  It  seems  like  a  fairly  safe 
generalization  to  say  that  the  instinct  to  teach  begins  with 
the  tendency  to  thrust  the  young  into  positions  where  at  least 
a  partial  use  of  their  resources  is  necessary. 

However  this  may  be,  it  is  evident  that  the  prolonged  pro- 
tecting companionship  of  the  parent  offers  in  itself  a  fruitful 
opportunity  to  the  imitativeness  which  is  inevitably  involved 
in  any  high  degree  of  capacity  to  learn.  This  imitativeness 
has  itself  been  called  an  instinct.  The  psycho- physiological 
basis  of  it  will  be  discussed  later.  Here  it  is  necessary  only  to 
notice  that  it  appears  in  all  the  higher  social  animals,  as  a 
somewhat  blind  tendency  to  do  the  things  that  are  perceived, 
provided  the  action  system  of  the  animal  makes  possible  such 
acts.  The  perception  of  the  act  gets  associated  with  its  per- 
formance so  that  the  one  inevitably  leads  to  the  other.  Here 
we  have  the  "circular  reaction"  of  Professor  Baldwin.2  It 


(2)  Parental 
training 

Forcing  the 
young  to 
learn 


Growth  of 
imitative- 
ness  and 
of  training 
through 
prolonged 
companion- 


1  Compare  Letourneau,  L' Evolution  d' 'Education,  Ch.  I. 

2  Mental  Development,  "Methods  and  Processes,"  p.  133. 


Principles  of  Education 


Great  amount 
learned  by 
uncalculat- 
ing  imi- 
tation 


Mechanical 
imitation 
as  leading 
to  intelli- 
gent use 


does  not  of  necessity  involve  any  notion  of  the  end  to  be  gained 
through  such  imitation.1  Thus  the  monkey  and  the  parrot 
imitate  a  great  variety  of  things  the  significance  or  use  of  which 
they  do  not  in  the  least  comprehend.  It  simply  happens  that 
they  can  do  these  things,  and  that  the  association  between 
the  perception  of  the  acts  and  the  impulse  to  perform  them 
can  and  does  get  established. 

But  however  blind  the  impulse  or  simple  the  act,  the  ten- 
dency to  repeat  what  is  perceived  is  replete  with  possibilities 
in  the  way  of  handing  on  ancestral  habits.  Indeed,  it  results 
in  a  social  heredity  almost  as  mechanical  in  its  methods  of 
transmission  as  is  physiological  heredity.  Natural  selection 
favors  those  who  set  good  models  on  the  one  hand,  and  those 
who  imitate  on  the  other.  Thus  the  drift  is  toward  a  larger 
and  larger  number  of  racial  or  group  usages,  which  derive 
their  value  either  from  their  service  to  the  individual  or  to 
society.  By  imitation  the  lower  animals  learn  to  seek  food 
or  water  or  safety  in  certain  places.  In  a  similar  way  they 
gain  some  power  of  interpreting  the  signs  of  nature  or  of  the 
social  attitudes  of  their  fellows.  They  learn  to  make  signs 
that  result  in  communication.  As  we  sometimes  say,  they 
learn  to  understand  one  another. 

This  uncalculating,  almost  unconscious  imitation  may  lead 
the  mind,  even  while  the  acts  are  being  repeated  and  made 
into  habits,  forward  into  a  dim  appreciation  of  the  use  of  what 
is  being  done.  Thus  it  is  with  the  imitative  as  with  instinctive 
tendencies,  that  their  purpose  may  come  vaguely  or  clearly 
to  be  understood  when  they  have  been  repeatedly  carried  into 
action.  The  human  child  imitates  words  without  knowing 

1  Professor  Thorndike  surmises  (Animal  Intelligence)  that  lower  animals 
never  consciously  endeavor  to  gain  the  results  of  others  by  imitating  them. 
This  view  Mr.  Hobhouse  (Mind  in  Evolution)  rejects,  although  he  admits  the 
rarity  of  such  purposive  imitation. 


Education  and  Society  113 

their  meaning  or  intending  to  use  them  in  communication. 
But  the  use  of  the  word  is  soon  learned  after  the  power  to  make 
it  has  been  acquired.  So  brutes  may  come  to  use  with  great 
skill  and  considerable  intelligence  habits  at  first  acquired 
blindly  through  imitation.  But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
conscious  recognition  of  the  value  of  these  habits  is  indis- 
pensable to  their  successful  practice. 

We  have  already  emphasized  the  fact  that  this  social  hered-  imitative 
ity  is  but  little  more  flexible  than  the  physiological  inheritance.      ^oiTmore 
It  is  also  usually  hammered  out  in  the  same  savage  way.      modifiable 
Those  species  that  have  a  bad  social  heredity  are  eliminated      ^^ 
by  selection,  because  their  young  acquire  their  habits  almost 
as  blindly  and  as  certainly  as  though  these  had  come  merely 
by  being  born.     Yet  however  small  the  difference,  social  hered- 
ity has  nevertheless  a  real  advantage  in  modifiability.     A 
disadvantageous  instinct,  although  it  may  be  suppressed  in 
the  parent,  will  wait  its  opportunity  in  the  child.    A  habit, 
suppressed  in  the  elder  generation,  is  no  longer  a  model  for 
imitation,  and  without  loss  of  life  it  disappears  from  social 
heredity.     Nature  or  the  environment  can  by  coercing  the 
individual  eliminate  the  traits  preserved  by  imitation,  and  the 
extinction  of  the  stock  or  strain  of  blood  is  not  necessary. 
Moreover,  the  destruction  of  parents  or  their  separation  from 
their  offspring  before  the  latter  have  adopted  some  of  their 
habits  would  cause  these  traits  entirely  to  disappear  in  a  gen- 
eration without  the  elimination  of  the  stock.     Thus  there  is 
real  advance  in  flexibility. 

We  have  seen  that  parental  training  may  supplement  pa- 
rental fosterage  by  instinctively  selecting  the  safe  and  advan- 
tageous time  for  thrusting  the  young  on  their  own  resources. 
When  the  young  are  markedly  imitative,  and  the  amount  of 
social  heredity  to  be  transmitted  correspondingly  large,  the 
instinct  to  prolong  the  companionship  of  parent  and  offspring 


114 


Principles  of  Education 


(3)  General 


its  conserv- 


effects 


Preferential 

imitation 


beyond  the  time  of  dependence  comes  to  aid  the  educative 
process.  Thus  the  two  instincts,  the  one  tending  to  drive  the 
young  into  independence,  and  the  other  preserving  social  com- 
munication with  them  so  that  they  may  learn  through  imita- 
tion how  to  get  on  by  themselves,  supplement  each  other. 
The  educative  advantages  of  social  intercourse  with  parents 
become  greatly  multiplied  in  the  group  life  that  the  higher 
social  animals  display.  The  young  imitate  other  adults  be- 
sides their  parents.  Thus  parental  training  comes  to  be  sup- 
plemented by  that  of  society. 

General  social  training  introduces  interesting  new  possi- 
k^ties  ^n  *ne  waY  both  of  variation  and  conservation.  The 
model  of  parental  training  tends  to  be  interfered  with  by  that 
presented  by  others  in  the  social  group.  Family  peculiarities 
may  thus  be  swamped  out,  because  of  the  mere  numerical 
preponderance  of  those  who  set  a  different  pattern.  Thus  the 
children  tend  toward  the  norm  of  society  rather  than  the  varia- 
tion of  the  parent.  Galton's  law  of  regression  toward  the  type 
finds  illustration  in  social  as  well  as  in  physiological  heredity.1 
On  the  other  hand,  general  social  intercourse  offers  in  many 
cases  not  one  model,  but  many.  Here  it  tends  to  break  away 
from  the  conservatism  of  family  training  and  to  suggest  dif- 
ferentiation and  variety. 

The   possible    conflicts   among   the   models   presented   by 

.   ,  Al  .  ,.  .  .,.." 

society  open  the  way  for  struggle  and  for  preferential  muta- 
tion. An  individual  who  has  acquired  habits  that  are  espe- 
cially efficient  or  noticeable  stands  out  as  a  preferred  pattern 
for  the  young.  The  leader,  the  hero,  is  in  evidence  even  among 
the  brutes,  and  among  men  his  grip  enables  him,  as  chance  or 
his  will  determines,  both  to  check  any  tendency  to  vary  from 
the  social  norm  and  to  swerve  the  current  of  social  heredity 
from  its  wonted  channels. 

1  Compare  Natural  Inheritance. 


Education  and  Society  115 

We  may  leave  the  discussion  of  the  social  mechanism  of  Summary 
imitation  to  a  later  section.1  The  next  stage  in  the  evolution 
of  the  educative  function  on  the  part  of  society  is  the  rise  of 
conscious  education.  Its  appearance  is  sufficiently  important 
to  constitute  a  revolution  in  the  history  of  social  heredity,  and 
in  consequence  we  may  well  devote  to  it  a  special  section.  The 
earlier  evolution  of  social  heredity,  as  we  have  seen,  is  summed 
up  in  the  stages  of  (i)  parental  fosterage  ;  (2)  parental  train- 
ing, that  appears,  on  the  one  hand,  as  a  tendency  to  encourage 
or  compel  on  the  part  of  the  young  the  development  of  their 
powers,  and,  on  the  other,  as  prolonged  intercourse,  that 
cooperates  with  imitation  to  increase  the  material  of  social 
heredity ;  (3)  general  social  training,  that  leads  into  the 
complex  mechanism  of  interference  among  suggestions  and 
of  preferential  imitation. 

In  this  evolutionary  development  we  may  note  the  constant 
tendency  toward  economy  of  life  and  of  vital  force,  and  toward 
flexibility  in  readjustment.  The  immaturity  of  rejuvenation 
and  the  loss  of  acquired  characters  involve  expenditure  for  the 
sake  of  flexibility,  but  parental  fosterage,  parental  training,  and 
general  social  training  tend  successively  to  repair  the  losses. 
Indeed,  the  losses  are  so  well  made  good  through  the  unthinking 
mechanism  of  imitation  that  the  flexibility,  so  hardly  acquired, 
is  well-nigh  lost.  However,  the  advance  from  physiological 
heredity  to  social  heredity  and  from  parental  training  to  gen- 
eral social  training  brings  in  each  case  some  increase  in  the 
ease  of  readjustment.  Social  heredity  can  be  improved  with- 
out the  destruction  of  the  stock,  and  the  larger  social  group 
presents  more  opportunity  for  variation  in  models  than  does 
that  of  the  family.  This  increase  in  flexibility  becomes 
especially  prominent  when  we  reach  conscious  education. 

1  Compare  §  38. 


1  1  6  Principles  of  Education 

SECTION  13.    The  rise  of  the  school 

Rise  of  con-  The  first  social  unit  to  strive  consciously  for  the  improve- 
cation  in""  ment  °f  tne  young  through  training  is,  doubtless,  the  family. 
the  family  As  imitativeness  and  inteUigence  grow,  it  results  on  the  one 
hand,  that  the  amount  gained  by  imitation  becomes  sufficient 
to  catch  the  attention,  and,  on  the  other,  that  the  capacity  to 
discriminate  the  presence  of  such  learning  and  its  significance 
to  the  child  and  to  society  develops.  Thus  man  becomes 
at  last  dimly  aware  of  what  his  children  gain  through  inter- 
course. This  consciousness  is,  doubtless,  sharpened  by  the 
spectacle  of  children  whose  education  has  been  by  comparison 
with  others  either  defective  or  positively  bad.  The  evil  of 
their  plight  and  its  causes  are  detected  by  those  who  are  con- 
cerned in  the  welfare  of  others  who  might  if  neglected  suffer 
similarly.  Consciousness  here,  as  always,  appears  primarily 
as  a  remedial  agency. 

Self-interest  Conscious  education  on  the  part  of  the  family  is  a  natural 
tfve  of  m  "  outgrowth  of  the  parental  instinct.  It  has  concerned  itself 
general  primarily  with  the  welfare  of  the  children.  In  a  secondary 

society  in 

sciously  way  the  welfare  of  the  family  group,  family  pride,  etc.,  have 


con 


educating  become  involved,  but  the  primitive  altruism  of  parental  affec- 
tion has  always  been  its  dominant  note.  The  teaching  of  the 
simpler  acts  of  skill,  of  the  morality  of  close  personal  relation- 
ships, and  even  to  a  great  extent  of  the  matters  that  prepare 
specifically  for  a  vocation  has  always  been  attended  to  pecul- 
iarly by  the  family.  On  the  other  hand,  society,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  family,  first  consciously  addresses  itself  to 
education,  not  so  much  in  order  to  promote  the  welfare  of  the 
illustration  individual,  as  to  train  in  conduct  that  will  strengthen  the  group. 

in  primi-  We  may  find  the  program  of  primitive  conscious  education 
nlustrated  m  those  exercises  by  which  savages  initiate  their 
young  men  and  women  into  the  rights  and  duties  of  adult 


Education  and  Society 


117 


members  of  the  tribe.1  These  exercises  may  be  roughly  classi- 
fied into  ordeals,  drill,  initiatory  rites,  and  instruction  in  tribal 
traditions,  religious  beliefs,  laws,  and  customs.  Some  of  these 
factors  may  be  defective,  if  not  lacking,  in  the  exercises  of  cer- 
tain peoples,  but  as  a  rule  most  or  all  are  represented. 

The  ordeal  is  the  test  that  determines  whether  the  novitiate 
is  worthy  of  admission  into  the  tribe.  Occasionally  it  may 
determine  his  standing  therein.  One  of  its  almost  universal 
forms  is  physical  mutilation  of  some  sort,  of  which  tattooing  is  an 
especially  common  type.  The  tattoo  marks  are  not  there  merely 
for  aesthetic  reasons.  They  are  the  tribal  brand,  symbolical  of 
that  which  the  individual  is  willing  to  endure  to  gain  public 
approval.  Fasting  and  isolation  from  society,  especially  that 
of  women,  or  in  the  case  of  girls  that  of  men,  are  also  nearly 
universal.  Isolation  is,  however,  properly  ceremonial,  and 
finds  its  utility  in  impressing  upon  the  youths  the  enormous 
importance  of  the  step  they  are  taking.  The  forms  of  the 
ordeal  are  of  the  greatest  variety.  It  may  consist  in  any  sort 
of  torture  that  the  fancy  or  the  circumstances  of  the  tribe  may 
suggest,  from  binding  the  youth  on  an  ant  hill,  that  he  may  be 
bitten  by  these  insects,  to  suspending  him  by  the  heels  for  an 
indefinite  period.  The  one  who  undergoes  the  ordeal  most 
heroically,  i.e.  most  stolidly,  comes  out  with  greatest  honor. 
And,  indeed,  the  qualities  demanded  here  are  not  essentially 
different  from  those  that  make  brave  and  persistent  hunters 
and  warriors.  The  tribe  demands  of  the  individual  much 
sacrifice  in  serving  the  community  through  the  dire  emergencies 
of  savage  life.  Social  solidarity  is,  it  is  true,  in  the  long  run 
a  source  of  security  to  the  individual.  But  it  is  often  purchased 
at  the  expense  of  individual  suffering  and  death,  and  the  willing- 
ness to  face  these  prospects  without  flinching  when  the  welfare 

1  Compare  Letourneau,  L'Evolution  d'Educati&n,  and  Webster,  Primitive 
Secret  Societies. 


(i)  The  ordeal 
as  a  test 
of  social 
efficiency 

Its  educa- 
tional 
value 


n8  Principles  of  Education 

of  the  group  is  at  stake  is  an  indispensable  condition  of  this 
solidarity.  It  is  fitting,  therefore,  that  the  young  men,  and 
to  a  certain  extent  the  young  women  as  well,  should  at  the 
beginning  of  their  adult  life  realize  by  direct  experience  what 
is  expected  of  them,  that  the  standards  of  social  approval 
should  be  applied  to  them  in  so  serious  a  fashion  as  to  insure 
a  real  test  of  their  courage,  and  a  vivid  realization  on  their 
part  of  the  glory  of  success  and  the  shame  of  failure. 

(2)  Drill  as        The  same  motive  of  socialization  appears  as  the  basis  of  the 
culture        other  features  of  primitive  adolescent  training  that  we  have 

mentioned.  The  drill  trains  either  in  hunting  or  in  war.  Its 
object  is  to  mold  the  individual  into  habits  that  tend  to  make 
him  merely  a  part  of  a  larger  unit,  with  no  interests  separate 
from  this.  He  must  be  made  subservient  to  the  will  of  society, 
whether  that  be  expressed  by  an  autocratic  leader  or  by  public 
outcry.  He  must  acquire  habits  of  cooperation  and  of  obe- 
dience and  ideals  of  glory,  that  transform  him  from  a  child 
of  nature  into  a  creature  of  the  social  order.  Ratzenhofer1 
and  Gumplowicz2  contend  that  mankind  emerged  from  the 
primitive  social  condition  into  organized  society  as  a  result 
of  the  conflict  of  races  and  the  subjugation  of  some  by  others. 
We  may  add  that  in  this  struggle  the  determining  element  was 
the  efficiency  of  these  adolescent  exercises,  and  that  among 
them  the  special  one  of  drill,  by  which  military  skill  was  per- 
fected, was  of  no  slight  importance. 

(3)  initiatory       The  initiatory  rites  contribute  further  to  the  same  end  of 
their  sig-     efficient  socialization.     Often  apparently  meaningless  or  trivial, 
nificance      they  become  invested  with  religious  significance,  and  thus  gain 

all  the  sanctions  that  spring  from  terror  of  the  enmity  of  the 
supernatural  powers  or  hope  of  their  favor.  To  the  careless 
observer  the  childishness,  the  abject  formalism,  the  incon- 
sistency, and  the  stupidity  of  these  customs  constitute  their 

1  Die  Sociologische  Erkenntniss.  *  Die  Rassenkampf. 


Education  and  Society  119 

most  evident  characteristics.  Yet  to  the  uncritical  savage 
they  seem  inevitable,  and  to  one  who  studies  them  they  come 
as  a  whole  to  evince  an  utility  strangely  out  of  harmony  with 
the  irrationality  of  the  specific  observances  themselves  or  the 
superstition  of  their  associated  beliefs.  The  initiatory  cere- 
monial is,  in  truth,  only  a  phase  of  the  religious  life  of  the 
people,  and  it  offers  an  interesting  example  of  the  educational 
function  of  religion.  The  rites  are  unusual,  hence  they  are 
easily  rendered  impressive,  —  indeed,  solemn.  The  effect  is 
heightened  by  the  ordeals  with  which  they  are  accompanied, 
and  the  superstitions  by  which  they  are  interpreted.  Again 
they  are  mysterious,  and  their  very  lack  of  apparent  meaning 
enhances  their  mystery,  especially  since  the  only  intelligible 
reason  that  can  be  urged  for  them  is  that  they  are  all  com- 
manded by  the  powers  of  the  supernatural  world.  Finally, 
they  almost  invariably  involve  the  seclusion  of  the  initiated 
from  society  for  a  certain  period,  and  often  the  entire  cere- 
mony is  rigidly  kept  secret  from  the  opposite  sex  and,  indeed, 
from  all  except  the  participants.  The  secrecy  enhances  the 
impressiveness  of  the  whole  initiation. 

One  cannot  emphasize  too  much  the  importance  of  the  reli-  socializing 
gious  element  in  this  adolescent  training  and,  in  fact,  in  the 
work  of  fostering  the  social  attitude  throughout  the  life  of  the 
individual.  That  religious  beliefs  and  observances  have, 
apart  from  their  truth  or  falsity,  been  an  useful  if  not  an 
indispensable  agency  for  socialization  can  scarcely  be  denied. 
Whether  with  Voltaire  we  regard  them  as  largely  the  inventions 
of  the  priests  to  enslave  mankind,  or  with  Benjamin  Kidd1 
as  irrational  phases  of  human  thought  without  which  the  self- 
ishness of  men  cannot  be  held  in  check,  we  must  admit  that 
they  have  constituted  a  force  in  the  absence  of  which  it  is 
difficult  to  see  how  civilization  could  have  been  possible. 
1  Social  Evolution. 


1  20 


Principles  of  Education 


Religion  a 


This  function  is  displayed  very  clearly  in  the  earlier  stages  of 
social  evolution,  where  the  sacrifices  for  social  ends  that  are 
expected  of  the  individual  are  often  too  great  to  be  produced 
by  the  motive  of  desire  for  approval  alone.  Even  a  savage 
may  think  far  enough  to  realize  that  social  glory  will  not  help 
him  much  when  he  is  dead.  But  if,  when  he  comes  to  reason 
thus,  he  at  the  same  time  believes  in  the  efficiency  of  the 
supernatural  powers  to  make  him  unhappy  even  after  death, 
his  intelligence  will  not  undermine  the  instinctive  or  habitual 
social  acts  that  both  society  and  religion  are  striving  to  foster. 
Moreover,  even  in  the  present  life,  these  mysterious  agencies 
may  be  trusted  to  frustrate  all  his  cunning  in  endeavoring  to 
evade  the  social  consequences  of  cowardice,  immorality,  or 
crime,  such  as  come  under  their  ban.  Thus,  while  reason,  on 
^e  one  nand,  tends  to  subvert  in  the  interest  of  enlightened 
a  check  to  selfishness  certain  customs  that  originate  from  instinct  or 

its  non-  •        «»«  ...  .  i  ,          *         •«>««• 

unintelligent  imitation,  it,  on  the  other  hand,  aided  by  its 
ally,  imagination,  creates  a  belief  in  the  supernatural  which 
rallies  to  the  defense  of  the  threatened  social  fabric.  Instinc- 
tive or  mechanically  initiated  morality  is  gradually  supple- 
mented by  the  morality  of  superstition. 

That  natural  selection  encourages  those  superstitions  that 
make  for  social  efficiency  can  scarcely  be  doubted.  Especially 
is  this  evident  in  military  societies,  where  the  natural  courage 
of  the  individual  is  enhanced  by  the  belief  that  he  fights  under 
the  protection  of  a  tutelary  spirit  or  deity.  However,  not  only 
in  warfare,  but  also  in  those  early  stages  in  society  where 
castes  exist,  religion  tends  to  preserve  the  group.  Here  the 
social  order  depends  on  a  habit  of  obedience  in  the  subordinated 
castes  which  religion  fosters,  thus  insuring  peace,  the  gradual 
development  of  social  interdependence  and  conditions  that  in 
the  long  run  make  for  greater  intelligence,  and  a  broader  'hu- 
manity. It  is  not  meant  that  religion  is  with  primitive  men 


social 


Superstition 

natural  b 
selection 


Education  and  Society 


121 


mere  superstition,  but  if  we  think  of  superstition  as  a  false 
belief  about  the  supernatural,  it  is  undoubtedly  largely  so, 
although  possibly  always  containing  a  substratum  of  truth. 
However,  even  as  superstition,  religion  may  be  of  the  greatest 
value,  and  hence  is  favored  by  selection. 

Indeed,  not  only  is  superstition  the  parent  form  of  religion, 
but  also  of  those  other  offshoots  of  intelligence,  philosophy 
and  science.  Primitive  beliefs  consist  of  the  hypotheses  of  a 
dawning  rational  power  among  men.  But,  though  imagination 
and  reason  are  strong  enough  in  their  infancy  to  frame  hypothe- 
ses, they  are  not  capable  of  testing  them  by  the  methods  of 
philosophy  or  science.  Now  hypotheses  are  not  merely  true  or 
false.  They  also  have  a  relation  to  the  practices  of  life.  They 
are  helpful  or  vicious  in  their  reaction  upon  conduct.  Opin- 
ions that  exaggerate  or  distort  the  facts  of  reality  may  yet  prove 
for  a  time  valuable  assets  of  institutional  life.  The  notion  that 
a  certain  individual  or  group  of  men  are  infallible  may  be  the 
only  means  by  which  a  people  can  be  compelled  to  accept  from 
them  certain  rules  or  beliefs  of  the  highest  worth  or  truth. 
Uncritical  dogmatism  even  to-day  has  its  value  as  a  founda- 
tion for  force  of  will  either  in  an  individual  or  a  people.  Super- 
stitions are  made  up  of  uncriticised,  unverified  hypotheses, 
and  they  are  valuable  in  those  ages  in  history  when  a  critical 
attitude  lacks  such  a  guidance  from  racial  experience  as  will 
prevent  it  from  resulting  in  mere  individualism,  skepticism, 
and  feebleness  of  social  will.  While  science  is  gathering  its 
data,  superstition  serves  to  check  the  destructive  effects  of 
selfish  cunning.  Such  beliefs  as  make  toward  this  end  are 
preserved,  because  the  society  that  holds  them  endures. 

The  ordeals,  the  drill,  and  the  initiatory  rites,  used  by  primi- 
tive men  as  an  adolescent  discipline,  an  introduction  to  citizen- 
ship, are  naturally  associated  with  the  fourth  phase  of  such 
culture,  the  instruction  in  tribal  traditions,  religious  beliefs, 


Superstition 
as   the  be- 
ginning   of 
rationality 


(4)  Instruc- 
tion in 
traditions, 
etc.    Its 
growth 
into  the 
school 


122 


Principles  of  Education 


The  school 
the  out- 
come of 
conscious 
socializa- 
tion 


laws,  and  customs.  This  factor,  at  first  not  a  distinct  element, 
gradually  expands  in  amount  as  tradition  and  law  develop. 
Even  with  men  accounted  savage,  it  may  occupy  months  of 
training.  So  great  a  quantity  of  material  for  instruction  is 
eventually  collected  that  the  preservation  and  continuation  of 
it  comes  to  constitute  the  principal  if  not  the  sole  duty  of  a 
priestly  or  learned  class.  Many  beliefs  become  esoteric, 
simply  because  the  mass  of  the  people  have  not  time  to  acquire 
them,  or  special  training  or  intelligence  enough  to  understand 
them.  Such  conditions  were  typified  among  the  Egyptians, 
Hindoos,  Babylonians,  Hebrews,  and  Peruvians.  Indeed,  this 
stage  in  social  evolution  is  practically  universal.  Especially 
is  it  almost  certain  to  result  from  the  development  of  a  written 
language,  the  first  uses  of  which  are  invariably  connected  with 
law,  religion,  and  tradition.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  adoles- 
cent training  expanding  into  priestly  education,  and  involving  a 
school,  the  simplest  function  of  which  is  training  in  literacy. 

The  school,  therefore,  may  be  said  to  evolve  out  of  the  con- 
scious attempt  to  educate  the  young.  As  an  institution  of 
society  distinct  from  the  family,  it  finds  its  function  in  the 
endeavor  to  socialize  its  people.  The  family  remains  in  its 
educative  activity  primarily  interested  in  the  welfare  of  the 
child,  and  only  in  a  secondary  way  does  it  concern  itself  with 
the  improvement  of  the  collective  welfare.  On  the  other  hand, 
society  first  becomes  interested  in  education,  not  because  it 
wishes  to  promote  the  interests  of  the  individual  who  is  to  be 
trained,  but  because  it  desires  to  strengthen  itself  in  the  struggle 
for  self-preservation,  or  in  carrying  out  the  enterprises  dear 
to  the  heart  of  the  community  as  a  whole  or,  at  any  rate, 
of  those  who  control  it. 

Thus  the  conscious  education  of  society  first  reaches  clear 
expression  in  the  exercises  of  adolescence.  The  purpose  of 
these  exercises  is  primarily,  one  may  say  solely,  that  of  social- 


Ediication  and  Society  123 

ization.  They  are  to  train  in  habits  and  ideals  that  make  for 
the  welfare  of  the  group  of  the  initiated  even  though  they 
involve  the  sacrifice  of  the  individual.  In  this  work,  religion, 
even  in  the  form  of  superstition,  is  of  the  greatest  importance, 
for  by  it  the  belief  in  the  supernatural  is  rallied  to  the  rescue 
of  society.  Thus  reason  and  imagination  create  beliefs  that 
strengthen  social  organization  in  spite  of  the  disintegrating 
influence  of  intelligence  when  in  the  service  of  self-interest. 
Because  of  this  check  to  the  disruptive  actions  that  spring 
from  selfish  cunning  or  the  vagaries  of  reason  in  the  individual, 
natural  selection,  usually  operative  in  the  interest  of  social 
solidarity,  is  enabled  to  encourage  also  the  growth  of  ration- 
ality. 

Conscious  social  education  is  evidently  far  more  flexible  than 
the  unconscious  training  of  imitation,  for  it  is  of  the  essence  of 
consciousness  to  discriminate  and  hence  to  present  alternatives 
to  conduct.  To  educate  consciously  means  to  entertain  the 
idea  of  no  education  or  of  a  different  education.  It  means  to 
open  the  door  to  change  and  to  readjustment,  by  providing, 
on  the  one  hand,  increased  sensitiveness  to  disadvantageous 
educational  conditions  and,  on  the  other,  increased  resources 
for  change  in  the  way  of  suggestions  as  to  possible  methods  of 
doing  things.  Against  the  anarchic  effects  of  such  flexibility 
we  find,  as  we  have  seen,  arrayed  the  force  of  ethico-religious 
adolescent  culture. 

The  tyranny  of  such  culture  brings  with  it  the  tyranny  of 
civilization.  The  "state  of  nature"  of  which  Rousseau  dreamed 
is,  in  truth,  a  state  of  freedom  from  institutional  tyranny, 
—  if,  indeed,  we  can  anywhere  find  men  so  primitive  that  they 
have  no  institutions.  Rousseau  is  right  also  in  regarding  in- 
stitutional tyranny  as  the  outgrowth  of  education.  Social 
control  in  its  most  effective  forms  is  the  child  of  conscious  edu- 
cation and  of  the  school.  Thus  the  fundamental  problem  of 


124 


Principles  of  Education 


Purposes  of 
education 
for  social 
control 


Instincts 
back  of 
social 
heredity 


(i)  Those 
favoring 
passive 
transmis- 
sion 


political  history  is  bound  up  with  the  evolution  of  conscious 
education. 

SECTION  14.    Education  and,  social  control 

The  evolution  of  conscious  education  involves  the  transfer 
of  social  heredity  and  of  social  control  into  the  hands  of  human 
intelligence  and  will.  They,  therefore,  come  under  the  sway 
of  purposes.  We  may  distinguish  three  purposes  that  enter 
in  to  determine  the  nature  of  education  for  social  control. 
These  are  (i)  the  aim  of  promoting  the  welfare  of  the  children 
who  are  trained ;  (2)  that  of  fostering  society  and  social  wel- 
fare ;  (3)  that  of  exploiting  individuals  or  social  groups  in  the 
interest  of  those  who  control  the  mechanism  of  education. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  this  last  purpose  is,  like  the 
others,  grounded  in  instinct.  The  advent  of  consciousness 
merely  furthers  the  tendencies  that  nature  has  implanted  in  us. 
If  we  were  to  pass  in  review  the  instinctive  tendencies  that  lie 
back  of  education  through  social  intercourse,  we  should  find 
the  following  list  to  cover  fairly  well  the  ground :  (i)  the 
instinct  to  seek  the  society  of  one's  kind,  or  sociability  ;  (2)  the 
instinct  to  cooperate  in  specific  ways  with  some  and  to  antag- 
onize others ;  (3)  the  imitative  and  sympathetic  instincts ; 
(4)  the  parental  instinct ;  (5)  the  instinct  to  seek  approval ; 
(6)  the  instinct  to  control. 

Sociability  is  intimately  bound  up  with  that  "consciousness 
of  kind"  which  Professor  Giddings1  regards  as  so  fundamental 
a  fact  in  social  life.  The  instincts  of  cooperation  and  rivalry 
lead  to  a  great  variety  of  specific  acts,  such  as  are  involved  in 
cooperation  in  the  storing  of  food,  in  defense  against  enemies, 
in  the  posting  of  sentinels,  in  the  building  of  homes,  in  the 
pursuit  of  prey,  in  migration,  etc.  These  combine  with  socia- 
bility to  provide  a  constancy  of  intercourse  greatly  favorable 

1  Compare  Principles  of  Sociology. 


Education  and  Society  125 

to  the  transmission  of  social  heredity.  The  imitative  and 
sympathetic  instincts  go  hand  in  hand,  inasmuch  as  sympathy 
is  furthered  by  the  tendency  to  imitate  the  expressions  of 
emotion.  On  the  James-Lange  theory  of  emotion  such  imita- 
tion must  result  in  the  development  on  the  part  of  the  imitator 
of  some  measure  of  the  emotion  felt  by  the  one  who  is  imitated. 
Thus  imitation  makes  for  common  feeling.  Sympathy  is 
not,  however,  by  any  means  entirely  dependent  on  imitation. 
The  sight  of  others  the  situation  or  the  expressions  of  whom 
suggest  feeling  or  desire  of  any  sort  is  wont  in  sympathetic 
people  immediately  to  stir  similar  feelings.  It  is  to  be  noted 
that  while  sympathy,  by  transferring  to  one  the  feelings  of 
another,  causes  them  to  act  somewhat  alike,  it  does  not  by  that 
fact  cause  the  sympathetic  one  to  help  the  other.  Sympathy 
alone  leads  us  to  avoid  the  sight  of  suffering  rather  than  to  go 
to  its  assistance.  Hence,  while  it  furthers  cooperation  and 
sociability,  it  is  not  equivalent  to  these. 

Sociability,  cooperation,  imitation,  and  sympathy  favor  the  (2)  Those 
passive,  unconscious  transmission  of  social  heredity.  On  the  active**8 
other  hand,  the  parental  instinct,  the  instinct  to  seek  approval,  trans- 

....  ,     .          ,  -  mission 

and  the  instinct  to  control  may  each  involve  forms  of  the  gen- 
uine active  instinct  to  teach.  The  parental  instinct  leads, 
as  we  have  seen,  first  to  the  prolongation  of  the  companionship 
of  the  elders  for  the  sake  of  the  educative  effect  of  their  example, 
then  to  the  instinct  to  thrust  the  young  on  their  own  resources 
when  proper  occasions  appear,  and  finally  to  the  active  seeking 
or  artificial  creation  of  such  occasions.  The  last  step  carries 
us  into  the  region  of  human,  consciously  controlled  education. 
The  instinct  of  parental  training  spreads  by  imitation  and 
sympathy,  and  becomes  a  general  attitude  of  society  toward 
the  rising  generation.  It  gains  powerful  assistance  from  the 
inborn  impulse  on  the  part  of  human  beings  to  gain  recognition 
for  themselves  and  their  ideas,  not  only  from  others  of  their 


126 


Principles  of  Education 


Social  value 
of  the  in- 
stinct to 
exploit 


own  age,  but  also  from  children,  where,  perhaps,  it  may  more 
easily  be  won.  Finally,  the  instinct  to  control,  to  domineer, 
to  exploit,  appears  to  drive  its  possessor  to  make  use  of  the 
tremendous  engine  of  culture  in  the  interest  of  his  own  individ- 
ual caprices  or  ideals,  or  of  his  personal  security,  ease,  and 
comfort. 

In  the  history  of  mankind  it  is  often  difficult  to  determine 
the  extent  to  which  the  enterprises  of  leaders  are  dominated  by 
altruistic  interest  in  the  welfare  of  society  or  by  the  instinct  to 
exploit.  A  leader  who  creates  or  controls  a  mechanism  of 
education  by  which  a  social  group  is  made  strong  usually  brings 
about,  not  only  an  increase  in  social  welfare,  but  also  enhanced 
prosperity  for  himself.  Even  though  in  his  self-denial  he  re- 
fuses to  take  advantage  of  his  power  to  add  to  wealth  or  purely 
personal  goods,  he  cannot  rid  himself  of  his  authority  or  of  his 
prestige.  He  has  identified  himself  with  his  social  group  as  a 
whole,  and  its  welfare  becomes  in  a  peculiarly  intimate  sense 
that  of  himself.  It  is  not  that  he  is  conceived  justly  to  charge 
from  the  community  that  has  profited  by  his  organizing  power 
a  commission  for  his  services,  but  rather  that  socializing  edu- 
cation has  trained  all  men  to  think  of  the  welfare  of  the  state 
as  the  thing  that  overshadows  every  individual  interest,  and 
that  the  leader  or  governing  class  symbolizes  this  community 
prosperity  and,  indeed,  the  community  itself.  In  an  age  when 
the  materials  for  scientific  criticism  of  government  are  few, 
and  when  natural  selection  works  fiercely  to  weed  out  those 
social  groups  with  less  effective  organization  or  less  vigorous 
loyalty  thereto,  it  is  likely  that  men  who  are  governed  almost 
entirely  by  the  instinct  of  exploitation  may  do  society  its  great- 
est service. 

Exploitation  As  a  matter  of  fact  there  can  be  little  doubt  that,  however 
of  wdU  imPortant  it  maY  be  to-day  for  society  to  get  rid  of  the  use  of 
pr0gres3  the  machinery  of  social  control  for  the  sake  of  exploitation, 


Education  and  Society  127 

this  practice  has  constituted  an  integral  and  necessary  phase 
of  human  progress  in  the  past.  Exploitation  has  not  only 
served  the  interests  of  those  who  govern,  but  it  has  as  a  rule 
benefited  the  governed  as  well,  and  in  the  long  run  has  served 
as  a  means  of  promoting  human  progress  into  a  truly  democratic 
age.  Slavery  may  often  be  preferable  to  a  state  of  nature, 
so  far  as  the  security  of  life  is  concerned.  Domestication  has 
for  the  lower  animals  its  disadvantages.  It  is,  however,  the 
price  that  many  pay  to  avoid  extermination.  But  the  greatest 
gains  that  spring  from  this  stage  of  social  evolution  accrue 
to  civilization  in  general.  They  come  through  the  intellectual, 
social,  and  aesthetic  advances  that  the  governing  class  is  enabled 
to  make  from  the  leisure  that  it  obtains  through  the  system  of 
exploitation.  This  matter,  so  important  in  the  evolution  of 
culture,  will  be  discussed  more  fully  later. 

The  ethico-religious  culture,  which  constitutes,  as  we  have  Exploitation 
seen,  practically  the  sole  educational  interest  of  general  society 
at  the  dawn  of  conscious  education,  drifts  naturally  into  an  cation 
agency  for  exploitation.  This  process  may  take  place  along 
two  lines.  Leaders  or  governing  classes  may  spring  up  within 
a  social  group,  or  a  governing  class  may  be  created  by  the 
conquest  and  subordination  of  one  tribe  or  race  by  another. 
In  both  cases  the  role  of  socializing  education  is  dominant. 
Such  education  may  spring  from  the  accumulated  suggestions 
of  men  who  are  by  nature  endowed  with  much  of  the  instinct 
to  control,  but  the  preservation  of  the  material  depends  largely 
upon  its  service  to  the  general  efficiency  of  the  tribe. 

Once  brought  into  existence,  the  material  of  adolescent 
culture  lends  itself  to  the  creation  and  perpetuation  of  a  sys- 
tem of  leaders.  The  initiated,  by  virtue  of  the  strength  of 
their  social  organization,  the  secrecy  and  mystery  of  their 
common  rites,  the  superstitions  that  surround  and  sanction 
their  customs,  are  enabled  to  exercise  an  extraordinary  author- 


128  Principles  of  Education 

(1)  Of  women  ity  over  the  uninitiated.     From  the  very  beginning  women 
by  men       kave  keen  as  a  ruje  exclucled  from  the  secret  tribal  society. 

Thus,  while  they  may  have  an  adolescent  training  of  their  own, 
the  more  powerful  organizations  of  the  men  become  an  effective 
agency  to  enhance  the  dominance  of  the  male  sex.1  It  is  likely 
that  the  superior  strength  of  the  male  society  is  due  to  several 
reasons,  among  which  we  may  note  first,  the  fact  that  the  prin- 
cipal service  of  the  social  training  which  such  societies  involve 
is  to  promote  efficiency  in  war,  an  occupation  not  practiced 
extensively  by  women,  and  second,  the  fact  that  they  tend  to 
run  counter  to  the  extreme  instinctive  partiality  of  women 
for  their  own  children. 

Thus  in  its  earlier  stages  adolescent  initiatory  education 
tends  to  become  an  agency  for  the  control  and,  indeed,  the 
exploitation  of  women,  inspiring  in  them  fear  and  mysterious 
reverence,  compelling  them  to  yield  up  their  children,  and 
reducing  them  to  a  kind  of  slavery,  so  far  as  regards  the  drudg- 
ery of  the  economic  life.  In  yet  another  way  such  training, 
even  while  it  remains  the  common  heritage  of  all  the  males 
of  the  tribe,  becomes  an  agency  for  the  exploitation  of  some 

(2)  of  in  the  interest  of  others.    Inasmuch  as  its  nature  is  largely  a 
older  men X  matter  of  tradition,  its  control  falls  into  the  hands  of  the 

elders,  who  are  thus  enabled  to  assume  a  position  of  great 
authority,  and  in  fact  render  the  younger  man  quite  subser- 
vient to  them.  Thus  they  are  able  to  substitute  for  the  neglect 
and  the  privations  that  the  decay  of  old  age  naturally  brings 
to  those  dwelling  in  a  state  of  nature  a  life  of  great  honor  and 
comparative  ease.2  Whatever  they  wish  they  can  obtain 
through  the  superstitious  respect  that  their  supposed  super- 
natural powers  causes  them  to  inspire.  They  may  even  mo- 
nopolize the  younger  and  more  attractive  women  of  the  tribe, 

1  Compare  Webster,  Primitive  Secret  Societies. 

2  Compare  ibid.,  p.  60. 


Education  and  Society  129 

leaving  the  young  men  to  go  without  wives  or  to  select  them 
from  those  whom  the  elders  do  not  desire. 

The  exploitation  of  women  by  men  and  that  of  the  younger  (3)  Of 
men  by  the  elders  do  not  exhaust  the  possibilities  of  the 
adolescent  culture  as  a  source  of  power  and  privilege.  In  a  governing 
general  way,  the  honor  which  the  initiated  enjoy  depends  on 
their  success  in  the  ordeal.  Thus  the  initiatory  exercise  nat- 
urally results  in  a  rough  differentiation  into  leaders  and  sub- 
ordinates. This  differentiation  may  be  further  developed  by 
the  growth  of  the  tribal  society  in  two  directions.  The  process 
of  initiation  may  be  expanded,  and  various  grades  may  appear 
between  the  first  exercise  and  final  admission  into  the  inner 
circle  of  the  elect,  who  really  control  the  society.1  Again,  the 
conditions  of  initiation  may  be  such  as  to  exclude  many, 
perhaps  all  but  a  few,  from  entering  the  society.  In  both  cases 
the  institution  tends  toward  the  limitation  of  the  authority 
and  advantage  that  springs  from  a  control  of  the  adolescent 
culture  to  a  few.  It  tends  to  differentiate  the  tribe  into  a 
governing  and  a  governed  class. 

In  the  further  evolution  of  the  tribal  society  this  distinction   Rise  of  aris- 
may  become  more  and  more  manifest.     The  determination      culture! 
of  those  who  shall  monopolize  the  machinery  of  social  control      First  phase: 

,          ,.  restriction 

may  come  to  depend  on  wealth  or  on  heredity  or  on  both,      ofmember- 
instead  of  upon  the  inherent  quality  of  the  initiates.     Under      ship  in  a 

•  *  dominant 

such  conditions  the  tribal  society  may  come  to  bridge  the  tribal 
gap  between  primitive  democracy  and  genuine  aristocratic 
or  monarchical  institutions.  The  ethico-religious  culture  may 
thereupon  gradually  cease  to  be  the  peculiar  initiation  into  a 
powerful  and  privileged  society,  and  become  a  training  of 
general  custom,  that  serves  to  maintain  the  social  control  of 
the  dominant  classes.  In  that  event,  the  machinery  of  the 
earlier  institution  may  still  be  preserved,  either  as  a  mere  formal 

1  Compare  ibid.,  Ch.  VI. 
K 


130  Principles  of  Education 

survival  or  as  a  contribution  to  the  forces  of  conservatism  in 
maintaining  the  established  order. 

Second  phase:       In  the  complete  evolution  of  the  aristocratic  or  monarchical 
state,  however,  the  second  method  of  transformation  above 


by  another  alluded  to  is,  doubtless,  an  usual  if  not  a  necessary  phase. 

having   a  .    ,   ,  ..  . 

superior  One  tribe  with  a  superior  social  heredity,  so  far  as  war  is  con- 
culture  cerned,  conquers  and  reduces  to  subjection  another.  In  this 
struggle  it  is  evident  that  efficiency  depends  to  a  great  extent 
upon  social  solidarity  and  so  upon  such  adolescent  culture  as 
we  have  been  considering.  Originally  the  result  of  such  con- 
flicts was  the  annihilation  of  the  defeated  group.  With 
developing  intelligence  slavery  or  some  other  form  of  exploita- 
tion is  substituted  for  extermination.  Society  is  thus  broken 
into  the  governing  and  the  governed  caste.  Each  maintains 
to  some  extent  its  own  educational  traditions  and  methods.1 
However,  there  are  modifications.  The  subjugated  caste 
retains  just  that  ethical  training  that  makes  it  subservient. 
Only  when  its  culture  lends  itself  to  this  change  can  it  escape 
extinction.  The  ruling  caste  emphasizes  more  and  more  the 
social  discipline  that  makes  it  a  coherent  and  efficient  force 
in  war,  yet  couples  this  subservience  to  its  own  standards  with 
the  arrogance  of  leaders  toward  the  conquered  caste. 
Survivals  of  The  methods  and  ideas  of  these  early  systems  of  socializing 
adoksclnt  culture  survive  in  many  of  the  institutions  of  to-day.  We  still 
culture  have  adolescent  military  drill  ;  we  have  secret  societies,  and 
the  time  for  joining  them  as  for  entering  the  church  is  that  of 
early  manhood.  The  Greeks  had  the  manhood  examination  ; 
we  have  the  period  of  assuming  the  civil  and  political  rights  of 
the  adult.  Chinese  education  is  practically  an  expansion  of 
the  manhood  examination.  Originally  military  in  character,  it 
expanded  to  concern  the  so-called  "six  arts,"  —  music,  archery, 
horsemanship,  writing,  and  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  public 
1  Compare  Gumplowicz,  Die  Rassenkampf. 


Education  and  Society  131 

and  social  life.  Here  we  find  a  caste  education  that  aimed, 
in  part  at  least,  at  the  exploitation  of  the  lower  classes.  The 
later  democratic  movements  in  China  involved  the  reduction 
of  the  military  element  to  a  mere  form,  and  the  development 
of  the  official  system  of  morality  and  custom  known  as  Con- 
fucianism. This  is  founded  on  literary  and  ethical  education, 
the  aim  of  which  is  to  fit  the  student  for  office.  His  success 
therein  is  tested  by  a  series  of  examinations  conducted  by  the 
state,  and  the  passing  of  each  successive  ordeal  either  brings  the 
student  nearer  to  an  official  position,  or  entitles  him  to  one  better 
.  than  he  holds.  In  India  the  caste  system  of  education  is  intact 
and  intrenched.  The  Persians  and  Spartans  illustrated  the 
preservation  by  superior  military  training  of  the  supremacy  of 
a  conquering  caste  over  a  numerically  superior  tributary  one. 

We  have  seen  that  recapitulatory  education  amounts  to  Practical 
little  until  it  takes  the  form  of  social  heredity.     We  may  add      v*lue  °f 

education 

that  the  principal  function  of  social  heredity  is  to  further  social  in  social 
life;  that  is,  to  socialize  the  young.  This  is  true  even  of  the 
unreflective  education  of  imitation  and  instinct.  The  acquired 
characters  which  each  generation  of  a  species  needs  to  relearn 
consist  very  largely  of  methods  of  dealing  with  their  own  kind 
and  with  other  kinds.  By  the  time  social  heredity  has  evolved 
to  constitute  an  important  factor  in  the  equipment  of  the 
young,  the  social  environment  has  evolved  into  such  propor- 
tions and  such  complexity  as  to  afford  in  its  cooperations  and 
competitions  the  principal  problems  of  readjustment.  When 
conscious,  social  education  appears,  it  devotes  itself,  as  we  have 
seen,  almost  solely  to  the  business  of  socialization.  Even 
in  the  hands  of  the  family  its  primary  object  is  to  train  the 
children  to  obey,  to  cooperate,  and  finally  to  lead.  The  art 
of  social  life  is  thus  the  oldest  of  the  arts,  the  first  to  emerge 
from  the  rank  of  an  instinct  into  that  of  consciously  controlled 
devices.  Religion,  ethics,  the  science  and  art  of  social  control 


132  Principles  of  Education 

are  the  fields  into  which  all  save  an  almost  insignificant  part 
of  human  thought  has  gone  throughout  the  ages.  The  art  of 
getting  on  has  summed  itself  up  in  a  study  of  ways  of  pleasing 
or  exploiting  society. 

Society  furnishes  a  medium  in  which  the  aims  of  the  individ- 
ual are  all  accomplished  indirectly.  It  does  for  him  what  he 
wants  in  proportion  as  he  succeeds  in  pleasing  or  coercing  it. 
Social  control  is,  however,  not  in  the  last  analysis  ever  a  matter 
of  physical  force,  but  rather  of  management,  of  manipulation 
of  the  forces  that  influence  the  wills  of  men.  The  struggle 
for  existence  in  society  is  a  struggle  to  influence  one's  fellows. 
Rise  of  the  It  is  a  struggle  for  recognition,  in  which  conquest  comes  pri- 
conform  °  manly  through  conformity  to  the  conditions  and  the  standards 
of  the  social  will.  Thus  the  natural  struggle  for  existence 
ceases  to  have  the  character  and  the  results  that  appear  in 
the  state  of  nature.  Society  is  made  strong  by  self-sacrifice. 
Hence  it  encourages  the  development  of  this  quality,  and  the 
protection  of  the  weak  and  the  unfit.  Its  fundamental  law 
is  the  golden  rule,  and  whether  the  individual  be  penetrated 
with  altruism  or  be  purely  selfish,  he  can  gain  his  ends  only  by 
pursuing  the  way  of  social  service,  at  least  in  form.  The 
struggle  for  existence  in  society  may  in  fact  result  in  the 
destruction  rather  than  in  the  survival  of  the  fit.  The  physi- 
cally perfect,  the  brave,  the  efficient  are  called  upon  to  serve 
in  the  armies  and  at  the  front.  They  perish,  while  those  who 
are  unfit  for  such  duties  survive  to  maintain  the  race.  Presi- 
dent Jordan  has  emphasized  these  negative  effects  of  selection 
in  society.1  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  type  of  man- 
hood has  in  many  communities  degenerated  because  of  long 
and  bloody  wars.  What  to  natural  man  may  be  a  condition 
of  rapid  evolution,  may  to  civilized  man  be  an  occasion  for  the 
reversal  of  this  process.  Moreover,  society,  not  content  with 

1  The  Blood,  of  the  Nation. 


Education  and  Society  133 

thrusting  into  the  post  of  danger  its  best  blood,  strives  by  its 
artificial  system  of  charity  to  preserve  pauper  and  criminal, 
feeble-minded  and  insane. 

Thus  society  wars  upon  the  principle  of  natural  selection,   Social  war- 
by  the  agency  of  which  our  fine  physiological  inheritance  has 
been  sifted  out.     Although  it  is  probable  that  we  need  not  fear      selection 
racial  degeneration  as  a  result  of  our  ethics,  nevertheless  it 
does  seem  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  advance  of  the  race 
physiologically  will  be  more  and  more  interfered  with,  if  not 
positively  checked.     The  average  intelligence  of  the  freeman 
in  ancient  Athens  will,  doubtless,  never  be  surpassed  in  any 
future  community,  if,  indeed,  it   be  equaled.      However,  it 
does  not  follow  from  the  slackening  of  progress  in  respect  to 
physiological  heredity  that  the  advance  of  society  is  threatened. 
Nature  shuts  off  each  generation  from  tinkering  easily  and  at 
random  with  physiological  heredity  by  providing  no  means 
for  inheriting  acquired  characters.     The  ethics  of  society  still 
further  safeguards  the  stock  against  change,  especially  change 
in  the  direction  of  powers  to  be  used  only  in  the  service  of  self. 
Nevertheless,  in  both  cases  the  stability  of  physiological  hered- 
ity is  more  than  made  up  by  the  flexibility  of  social  heredity. 
Progress  ceases  to  be  by  the  selection  of  men,  and  comes  to  be  Progress  by 
by  the  selection  of  habits,  ideals,  institutions,  cultures.     Thus      pavement 
the  destiny  of  the  race  is  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the  butcher      of  social 
and  placed  in  the  care  of  the  social  reformer,  whose  work  can 
be  carried  on  without  violation  of  ethics,  and,  indeed,  in  the 
spirit  of  charity  and  good  will  toward  all. 

It  is  not  meant  that  the  processes  by  which  the  unfit  are 
eliminated  have  in  civilized  society  ceased.  Disease  destroys 
individuals  and  families.  Poverty  fosters  disease.  Sexual 
selection  leaves  many  of  the  inefficient  or  abnormal  without 
mates  and  offspring.  Society  in  many  ways  wars  upon  the 
non-social  and  discourages  the  continuance  of  traits  that  either 


134 


Principles  of  Education 


Consequent 
increase 
in  the 
rapidity  of 
readjust- 
ment 


Transforma- 
tion of 
recapitula- 
tory into 
rational 
education 


negatively,  like  indolence  or  inefficiency,  are  a  burden  upon  it, 
or  positively,  like  immorality  or  the  predatory  spirit,  threaten 
its  disruption.  Nevertheless,  it  seems  clear  that  the  respon- 
sibility for  progress  has  been  shifted  from  the  germ  plasm  and 
placed  upon  culture.  Many  anthropologists  are  inclined  to 
think  that  the  differences  between  primitive  and  civilized  men 
of  to-day  are  mainly  due  to  nurture,  and  that  in  nature  the  races 
of  mankind  are  after  all  gifted  with  much  the  same  capacities.1 

The  shifting  of  the  battle  ground  of  progress  from  physiolog- 
ical to  social  heredity,  from  nature  to  nurture,  has  brought 
with  it  two  great  advances.  In  the  first  place,  and  from  the 
formal  point  of  view,  there  has  been  that  large  gain  in  adjust- 
ability, in  flexibility,  in  progressiveness  that  we  have  so  much 
emphasized.  The  evolution  of  life  is  in  this  respect  like  the 
movement  of  a  stream  that  begins  as  a  glacier.  Imperceptibly 
the  gathering  snows  are  packed  into  masses  that  begin  to  creep 
down  the  mountain  side.  But  the  progress  of  the  glacier  is, 
because  of  its  inflexibility,  marked  by  extreme  slowness  and 
by  terrible  struggle,  the  signs  of  which  are  the  crevasses, 
the  scoriations,  the  moraines.  When,  however,  it  reaches  the 
region  of  temperate  heat,  it  melts,  and  for  the  rest  of  the  course 
its  advance  is  swift,  fluid,  conforming  with  the  greatest  ease  to 
the  irregularities  of  its  bed.  But  with  all  its  fluidity  of  adjust- 
ment, we  must  remember  that  the  foundation  of  the  life  of  the 
higher  species  lies  in  a  physiological  heredity  that  seems  to 
share  somewhat  in  the  permanence  of  immortality. 

In  the  second  place,  and  from  the  point  of  view  of  content, 
capacity  for  readjustment,  for  education,  for  social  inheritance, 
leads  into  consciousness,  intelligence,  morality,  self-control, 
responsibility.  When  these  factors  once  become  clearly  effec- 
tive in  the  life  of  mankind,  education  advances  into  a  third 
stage  in  its  development.  In  assuming  the  function  of  trans- 

1  Compare  Ratzel,  History  of  Mankind,  Book  I,  §  3. 


Education  and  Society  135 

mitting  the  acquired  characters  it  became,  as  we  saw,1  a  con- 
servative agency.  But  when  such  recapitulatory  education 
is  taken  more  and  more  under  the  control  of  consciousness, 
as  an  agency  to  bring  about  the  realization  of  purposes,  we 
find  that  it  loses  its  mechanical  character  and  becomes  more 
ideal.  Men  learn  the  power  of  education  as  a  force  for  social 
control.  They  realize  that  future  society  will  be  what  present 
education  makes  it.  Above  all,  the  exercise  of  intelligence 
makes  them  aware  of  the  fact  of  progress,  and  the  importance 
of  education  as  an  aid  thereto.  Under  such  control  education 
becomes  rational,  progressive,  ideal.  Its  motto  is  no  longer 
"what  was  good  enough  for  me  is  good  enough  for  my  chil- 
dren." It  becomes,  "my  children  must  have  better  advan- 
tages than  I  enjoyed."  Thus  the  conservatism  of  recapitu- 
latory education  is  gradually  replaced  by  the  progressiveness 
of  the  education  of  the  reason,  that  aims  not  so  much  to  adjust 
as  to  equip  for  readjustment.  The  discussion  of  the  founda- 
tions of  such  education  will  constitute  the  main  theme  of  the 
second  part  of  our  subject. 

With  the  growth  of  consciousness  regarding  the  consequences  Summary 
of  education,  then,  the  amount  of  training  that  can  be  obtained 
from  the  exercise  of  the  instincts  of  sociability,  imitation  and 
sympathy,  cooperation  and  hostility,  or  even  from  the  more 
active  instincts  back  of  teaching,  —  namely,  the  parental 
instinct,  the  instinct  to  seek  approval  and  the  instinct  to  con- 
trol, —  is  enormously  expanded.  Especially  do  men  educate 
in  the  hope  better  to  realize  the  instinct  to  control,  and  we  find 
that  the  exercises  of  adolescence  evolve  into  elaborate  and 
cunning  devices  for  the  exploitation  as  well  as  for  the  better- 
ment of  society.  Women  are  exploited  by  men,  the  young  by 
the  old,  and  privileged  classes  may  appear,  either  by  the  mo- 
nopolization of  the  control  of  culture  by  a  few,  or  by  the  subju- 

1  Compare  §  10. 


136  Principles  of  Education 

gation  of  a  people  with  one  culture  by  a  community  having 
another  which  is  more  efficient  for  the  purpose  of  war.  Such 
exploitation  is  not  entirely  an  evil  in  its  day  and  generation. 
It  may  mean  efficient  organization  for  war  or  peace,  protection 
in  lieu  of  extermination,  for  which  tribute  or  service  is  exacted, 
or  a  stable  government  with  effective  machinery  for  justice. 
In  the  long  run  it  means  the  evolution  of  the  arts  of  civiliza- 
tion, which  are  to  a  great  extent  a  product  of  the  patronage 
of  the  leisure  class. 

By  the  time  social  heredity  has  come  to  assume  considerable 
importance  among  the  processes  of  life,  the  social  environment 
attains  the  position  of  being  the  medium  through  which  most 
of  the  adjustments  of  life  are  made.  With  man  in  civilized 
society,  nearly  all  that  is  done  involves  the  utilization  of  the 
social  machinery.  Thus  education  comes  in  a  double  sense  to 
be  for  social  control.  On  the  one  hand,  it  aims  to  socialize 
men,  to  bring  them  under  the  sway  of  common  ideals  and 
customs,  perhaps  to  exploit  them ;  on  the  other,  it  aims  to 
train  them  to  make  use  of  the  social  machinery,  to  know  how 
to  get  on  in  society,  to  please,  to  cooperate,  to  lead,  to  exploit. 
Throughout  the  earlier  history  of  civilization  the  concern  that 
monopolizes  almost  all  the  interest  of  education  is  the  art  of 
social  management.  In  socializing  men,  education  interferes 
with  the  operation  of  the  principle  of  natural  selection  by 
exploiting  the  strong  and  protecting  the  weak,  by  teaching 
the  golden  rule  and  the  principle  of  self-sacrifice  for  the  sake 
of  others.  Thus  evolution  in  regard  to  physiological  heredity 
is  checked.  However,  progress  by  the  improvement  of  social 
heredity  takes  its  place,  and  this  process  can  be  brought  under 
the  control  of  the  ideals  of  reason  and  conscience.  The  control 
of  reason  is  favorable  to  far  more  rapid  change;  that  of  con- 
science puts  the  destiny  of  man  in  the  hands  of  his  own  ideals. 
Thus  rational  or  ideal  education  takes  the  place  of  the  blind 
drift  ahead  or  of  mere  recapitulation. 


PART    II 

THE   PROCESS   OF   EDUCATION  IN  THE 
INDIVIDUAL 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   CONDITIONS   OF   INDIVIDUAL   DEVELOPMENT 

SECTION  15.     The  problem  of  individual  development 

IN  Part  I  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  determine  the  gen-  Problem  of 
eral  function  of  education  as  a  factor  in  organic  and  especially 
in  social  evolution.  Put  simply,  organic  evolution  is  a  history 
of  the  development  of  adjustability,  of  capacity  for  education. 
We  have  seen  how  difficulties  in  the  way  of  continuous  individ- 
ual readjustment,  together  with  the  need  of  combining  a  high 
degree  of  adaptability  in  some  respects  and  great  racial  stabil- 
ity in  others,  has  resulted  in  the  functions  of  reproduction  and 
heredity,  the  differentiation  of  heredity  from  education,  the 
non-inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  the  life  cycle  begin- 
ning with  infancy,  recapitulatory  education,  social  heredity, 
and  the  development  of  consciousness  and  conscious  control. 

So  far  the  problem  that  has  so  constantly  confronted  us  has  of  Part  n 
been  that  of  racial  adaptation,  racial  readjustment  and  evolu- 
tion. Now  we  may  turn  to  the  more  minute  analysis  of  the 
problem  of  education  as  a  matter  of  the  development  of  the 
individual.  We  have  to  consider  the  factors  and  the  methods 
that  appear  in  the  maturation  and  adjustment  of  the  child  of 
an  enlightened  race.  The  importance  of  consciousness  in  the 
process  causes  the  issues  involved  to  be  largely  questions  of 
psychology.  However,  their  discussion  will  constantly  lead 
back  to  the  question  of  general  organic  and  social  evolution, 
the  treatment  of  which  not  only  furnishes  the  foundation  for 

139 


140 


Principles  of  Education 


Four 
problems 
concerning 
individual 
develop- 
ment 


the  analysis  of  the  process  of  individual  development,  but  is 
itself  in  turn  dependent  upon  this. 

The  problem  of  individual  development  presents  four  large 
problems,  the  treatment  of  each  of  which  yields  certain  general 
principles  that  it  will  be  well  to  have  clearly  in  mind  through- 
out the  following  discussions.  These  problems  are:  first, 
that  of  the  hereditary  equipment  on  the  basis  of  which  all 
individual  development  proceeds  ;  second,  that  of  the  relation 
between  such  development  and  the  general  process  of  experi- 
mentation and  selection  ;  third,  the  relation  between  develop- 
ment and  consciousness ;  and  fourth,  the  relation  of  develop- 
ment to  habit. 


redity 


SECTION  16.    Heredity  and,  individual  development 

Dependence  The  development  of  the  individual  is  often  ascribed  to  hered- 
fo^educa^  ^  an(^  education.  In  fact,  since,  as  we  saw  in  an  earlier 
tion  on  he-  section,1  education  is  dependent  upon  an  hereditary  basis,  the 
entire  process  of  individual  development  is  limited  both  in 
scope  and  direction  by  that  which  comes  from  nature.  We 
distinguished  four  factors  in  the  capacity  to  learn:  (i)  the 
instincts ;  (2)  the  action  system ;  (3)  sensitivity  to  lack  of 
adjustment ;  (4)  ability  to  utilize  the  resources  of  the  action 
system  in  new  emergencies.  Each  of  these  is  a  gift  of  heredity. 
If  it  be  objected  that  these  factors  are  concerned  only  in  be- 
havior, while  learning  concerns  consciousness  as  well  as  physi- 
cal activity,  we  may  reply  that  consciousness  is  always  inti- 
mately associated  with  bodily  movement. 

It  follows  that  the  development  of  each  individual,  includ- 
ing the  things  that  he  can  learn,  is  limited,  and  to  a  consider- 
able extent  specialized.  We  differ  from  each  other  both  in 

1  Compare  §  9. 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    141 

general  power  and  in  the  lines  along  which  we  are  capable  of 
learning. 

"The  action  system  of  an  organism  determines  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  the  way  in  which  it  shall  behave  under  given 
external  conditions.  Under  the  same  conditions  organisms  of 
different  action  systems  must  behave  differently,  for  to  any 
stimulus  the  response  must  be  by  some  component  of  the  ac- 
tion system."  1 

Progress  in  flexibility,  in  intelligence,  has  meant  a  growth 
in  the  direction  of  power  to  do  any  unexpected  thing,  as  against 
power  to  meet  certain  special  situations,  yet  it  is  evident  that 
in  the  most  intelligent  beings  capacity  to  learn  is  limited  by 
the  range  of  the  action  system. 

"Man  is  no  more  regulated  by  pure  reason  than  animals 
by  pure  instinct.  The  basis  of  human  conduct  is  hereditary 
character  ;  the  hereditary  tendency  to  feel,  to  think,  to  act  in 
a  determinate  manner.  Properly  considered  the  impulse  to 
reason  is  itself  an  instinct  ;  and  the  methods  by  which  we  rea- 
son, the  'laws  of  thought,'  are  in  the  first  place  inherited 
methods  of  reaction  to  the  appropriate  objects.  They  are 
indeed  improved  and  refined  under  the  guidance  of  experience 
and  reflection,  but  in  this  respect  their  history  is  quite  parallel 
to  that  of  the  humbler  instincts  of  animal  life."  2 

Not  only  is  intelligence  based  on  instinct  and  limited  to  the  Hereditary 
recombination  of  inherited  modes  of  reaction,  but  also  the 


power  to  think  may  be  very  considerable  in  some  directions     mental 
where  instinctive  action  is  well  developed,  while  in  others, 
foreign  to  the  instincts  of  the  animal,  it  may  be  very  slight. 

"Intelligence,  we  shall  recognize,  develops  in  different  forms 
and  in  diverse  directions.  It  originates  within  the  sphere  of 
instinct,  and  in  its  earlier  stages  is  shaped  by  the  instinct  which 

1  Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  p.  300. 
*Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  p.  318. 


142  Principles  of  Education 

it  subserves  and  expands.  We  must  not  expect  dog  intelli- 
gence to  be  quite  the  same  thing  as  cat  intelligence  or  ape 
intelligence.  It  is  not  only  a  question  of  difference  in  degree, 
but  also,  in  a  sense,  of  difference  in  quality  arising  from  differ- 
ence in  origin.  Among  men  we  know  that  A,  who  is  clever  at 
language,  is  incredibly  stupid  in  mathematics,  while  with  B 
it  is  just  the  opposite.  So,  a  dog  may  show  not  merely  a  highly 
developed  hunting  instinct,  but  real  cleverness  in  the  adapta- 
tion of  past  experiences,  when  it  is  a  question  of  catching  a 
hare,  but  he  may  also  be  an  intolerable  dullard  when  it  comes 
to  opening  a  box."  1 

Social  hered-       The  action  system  by  which  the  learning  of  civilized  man  is 
ltyjf?        circumscribed  includes,  we  should  remember,  not  only  the 

condition 

of  learning  specific  muscular  movements  and  coordinations  of  movement 
possible  to  him,  but  those  instrumentalities  that  society  has 
developed  for  the  use  of  the  individual.  We  have  tools, 
clothing,  fire,  houses,  domestic  animals,  machinery,  wealth. 
We  have  language,  institutions,  law,  philosophy,  science. 
These  expansions  of  our  action  system  are  our  social  heredity. 
It  is  founded  on  the  power  to  learn  that  comes  to  us  through 
physiological  heredity,  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  an  expansion  of 
this.  So  extensive  is  the  superstructure  of  social  heredity 
that  it  dwarfs  and  almost  hides  its  supporting  instincts. 

"In  fine,  in  the  highest  animal  species,  instinct  lays  the 
ground  plan  of  conduct  within  which  details  may  be  remodeled 
by  individual  experience.  In  the  human  species,  the  ground  plan 
is  itself  reconstituted  by  the  organized  experience  of  the  race."  2 

The  flexibility  of  social  heredity  has  been  in  the  preceding 
pages  repeatedly  emphasized.  Yet  however  easily  modified, 
it  determines  the  lines  of  development  of  the  individual  as 
positively  as  does  the  physiological  inheritance.  We  are 
children  of  our  age  as  well  as  of  our  blood.  It  can,  then,  be 

1  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  p.  264.  2  Ibid.,  p.  320. 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    143 

laid  down  as  an  universal  proposition  that  one's  power  to  learn 
is  fixed  by  heredity  and  expressed  in  his  action  system.  It 
will  be  necessary  later  on  to  expand  further  the  conception  of 
the  action  system  in  order  to  include  and  to  provide  for  con- 
scious readjustment,  but  we  shall  find  that  this  extension  will 
not  affect  its  fundamental  relation  to  physiological  and  social 
heredity.  The  action  system  grows  as  does  heredity,  by 
virtue  of  that  inner  potentiality  of  growth  which  furnishes  the 
material  for  all  readjustment.1  Whether  or  not  its  earlier 
evolution  in  physiological  heredity  is  governed  by  a  principle 
of  "orthogenesis,"  it  would  seem  that  the  later  development 
of  social  heredity  under  the  control  of  intelligence  and  will 
would  manifest  clearly  the  tendency  toward  the  ideal.  How- 
ever, the  difference  is  probably  not  fundamental,  but  due  rather 
to  the  greater  ease  with  which  variations  not  orthogenetic  are 
eliminated  under  the  regime  of  conscious  evolution. 

One  other  point  of  great  educational  importance  should  be  Recapituk- 
mentioned  before  we  leave  the  subject  of  the  hereditary  basis  ra°dai  L  fo- 
of  individual  development.  The  elements  of  this  inheritance  dividual 
are  not,  as  we  have  seen,  all  transmitted  to  the  child  at  birth.2 
This  fact  is  almost  as  obvious  of  physiological  as  of  social  hered- 
ity. But  it  is  not  so  evident  that  the  order  of  development 
of  these  powers  in  the  individual  follows  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent that  of  their  evolution  in  the  history  of  the  race.  This  par- 
allelism between  the  ontogenetic  and  the  phylogenetic  series 
has  been  and  still  is  made  much  of  in  educational  theory. 
From  the  point  of  view  of  the  present  discussion  it  may  be 
stated  as  follows:  the  action  system  of  the  individual  tends 
to  expand  in  the  same  way  that  it  developed  in  the  history  of 
the  race.  The  extent  to  which  this  conception  of  recapitu- 
lation and  the  educational  practices  based  thereon  are  valid 
will  constitute  the  subject  of  the  following  chapter. 

1  Compare  §  9.  *  Compare  §  7. 


144  Principles  of  Education 

Summary  We  may  sum  up  the  section  by  reaffirming  the  principle  that 

individual  development  is  determined  by  heredity.  This 
follows  of  necessity  because  of  the  limitation  of  the  possibilities 
of  modification  by  education  to  the  resources  of  an  action  sys- 
tem that  comes  through  either  physiological  or  social  inherit- 
ance. We  readjust  ourselves  through  the  materials  that  come 
to  us  from  the  ages  of  organic  and  social  evolution.  These 
resources,  to  a  considerable  extent  at  least,  become  available 
in  !the  individual  in  the  order  in  which  they  appear  in  the 
race. 

SECTION  17.    Experimentation  and  selection 

Three  phases        In  a  general  way,  it  may  be  said  that  the  formula  "experi- 

Of  develop-   mentation  (or  variation)  and  selection"  covers  all  readjust- 
ment by  ....  .  . 

experimen-    ment,  whether  in  the  individual  or  in  the  race.     Three  distinct 

selection11  phases  of  the  exemplification  of  this  principle  may  be  discerned. 
These  are:  (i)  racial  evolution  by  variation  and  selection; 
(2)  individual  development  by  "trial  and  error";  (3)  individual 
development  by  conscious  or  ideational  readjustment. 

The  first  two  of  these  processes  have  been  already  much 
discussed.  The  method  of  learning  by  "trial  and  error"  is 
essentially  that  method  the  factors  in  which  are  described  in 
the  section  on  "heredity  as  a  basis  for  education."1  It  de- 
mands on  the  part  of  the  individual  that  learns  a  certain  sen- 
sitivity to  lack  of  adjustment  and  a  power  to  utilize  other  than 
hereditarily  preferred  responses  in  the  endeavor  to  meet  this 
situation.  The  process  of  learning  is  stimulated  by  the  sense 
of  dissatisfaction,  which  immediately  results  in  the  inhibition 
of  existing  impulses  and  the  initiation  of  diffused  activities. 
Such  of  these  as  are  useless  or  injurious  are  inhibited  and  elim- 
inated. If  any  succeed  in  removing  the  source  of  the  dissatis- 

'§9. 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development     145 


faction,  it  is  repeated,  and  a  new  association  is  formed,  mak- 
ing it  the  preferred  reaction  to  the  given  situation. 

When  we  compare  individual  readjustment  by  trial  and 
error  with  racial  readjustment  through  variation  and  selection, 
we  notice  an  important  contrast  both  in  the  materials  for  exper- 
imentation and  in  the  nature  of  the  selection.  In  the  case  of 
racial  evolution  the  experiments  are  individuals  who  vary 
from  each  other.  The  selection  is  done  by  the  physical  influ- 
ence of  nature,  destroying  all  who  do  not  succeed  in  conform- 
ing to  the  conditions  of  life.  If  the  organism  fits,  all  is  well, 
but  failure  involves  no  reaction  in  the  effort  to  better  itself. 
Such  a  reaction  would  illustrate  individual  rather  than  racial 
readjustment.  To  be  a  true  case  of  the  latter,  each  new  experi- 
ment must  be  a  new  individual,  springing  from  a  varying  frag- 
ment of  the  germ  plasm. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  learning  by  "  trial  and  error,"  the  ex- 
periments are  not  individuals,  but  impulses,  activities.  The 
resources  for  learning  are  not  potentialities  for  variation  in 
germinal  cells,  but  the  action  system  of  a  differentiated  body. 
Such  materials  are  both  specialized  and  capable  of  being 
brought  into  action  quickly  through  the  associating  power  of 
the  central  nervous  system.  Individual  readjustment  demands 
effective  action  speedily;  otherwise  the  time  for  learning  is 
past,  the  organism  has  perished,  and  the  work  of  readjustment 
must  be  left  to  the  race,  in  the  experiment  of  some  other  indi- 
vidual. The  action  system,  in  order  to  be  so  quickly  utilized, 
must  consist  of  fairly  mature  types  of  reaction,  or  such  as 
can  be  quickly  matured.  It  is  not  primitive,  undifferentiated, 
but  complex,  specialized,  and  at  the  immediate  beck  of  a  nerv- 
ous system  delicately  sensitive  to  the  needs  of  life. 

Just  as  learning  when  compared  with  racial  readaptation 
involves  a  change  in  the  materials  for  experimentation,  so  it 
depends  upon  a  new  method  of  selection.  The  individual  must 


Learning    by 
trial    and 


(2)    method 
of  selection 


146  Principles  of  Education 

assume  for  itself  this  function.  It  must  anticipate  the  de- 
structive action  of  the  environment.  Instead  of  waiting  for 
nature  to  settle  the  question  as  to  whether  or  not  the  experi- 
mental variation  is  desirable,  by  favoring  or  killing  the  experi- 
menter, the  sense  of  dissatisfaction  or  contentment  must  judge 
the  efficiency  of  the  various  reactions.  Thus  we  have,  instead 
of  direct  natural  selection,  symbolic  individual  selection.  It 
is  interesting  to  note  that,  unlike  natural  selection,  this  symbolic 
selection  does  not  destroy  the  impulses  that  it  inhibits,  but 
simply  puts  them  in  abeyance,  to  be  resuscitated  should  an 
emergency  serious  enough  arise. 

Thus  trial-and-error  learning  introduces  us  to  one  phase  of  the 
inner  subjective  life,  that  form  of  consciousness  which  is  usually 
called  affective.  From  its  function  we  might  well  call  such 
consciousness  selective,  yes  or  no  consciousness,  as  contrasted 
with  cognition,  which  is  descriptive.  Affective  consciousness 
symbolizes  the  favor  or  the  menace  of  the  environment,  thus 
enabling  us  to  change  our  ways  before  it  is  too  late.  Some 
have  wondered  why  we  should  so  generally  feel  pleasure  in 
what  is  good  for  us  and  dissatisfaction  in  the  injurious,  and  they 
have  tried  to  explain  the  matter  by  reflecting  that  natural 
selection  would  have  eliminated  all  who  felt  otherwise.  This 
is  only  half  the  truth.  Affective  consciousness  develops,  not 
merely  in  such  a  way  as  to  do  us  no  harm,  but  rather  as  a  fun- 
damentally important  asset  of  life.  It  is  that  without  which 
learning  would  be  impossible. 

We  have  spoken  of  affective  consciousness  as  symbolic  of 
the  selective  agency  of  the  environment.  This  does  not  in  the 
least  imply  any  clear  consciousness  of  this  symbolism.  One 
feels  his  way  toward  the  prudent,  but  does  not  know  the  rea- 
sons that  make  his  course  so  wise.  So  disguised  is  this  sym- 
bolism that  ethical  schools  have  sprung  up,  maintaining,  on 
the  one  hand,  that  pleasure  and  pain  are  the  sole  good  and 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    147 

evil  in  life,  and,  on  the  other,  that  they  have  no  relation  to 
either  good  or  evil,  and  should  be  utterly  disregarded  by  those 
in  search  of  the  true  values  of  life.  Both  schools  are  equally 
regardless  of  the  function  or  utility  of  feeling. 

The  principle  of  experimentation  and  selection  manifests  Nature  of 
itself  in  yet  a  third  way,  as  the  form  of  conscious  learning. 
In  the  case  of  learning  by  trial  and  error  the  experiments  are  ^^ 
actual  reactions  of  the  body;  the  selection  alone  is  symbolic, 
subjective.  When  we  come  to  conscious  learning,  however, 
we  find  that  the  experiments  themselves  have  changed. 
They  are  not  movements,  but  rather  ideas  of  movements. 
The  inner  world  has  come  to  symbolize,  not  only  the  selective 
agency  of  the  environment,  but  also  the  specific  conditions  and 
results  associated  with  our  activity  therein.  We  are  able  to 
represent  or  anticipate  in  detail  the  consequences  of  following 
certain  impulses.  Cognitive  or  descriptive  consciousness  has 
appeared.  Thus  the  interplay  of  experimentation  and  selec- 
tion becomes  wholly  a  mimic  struggle,  fought  out  in  the  arena 
of  the  mind.  Instead  of  acting  we  think  of  acting,  and,  sum- 
moning into  the  mind  the  consequences  that  will  follow  such  a 
course,  are  enabled  to  tell  beforehand  what  we  should  do,  with- 
out the  wear  and  tear  of  actual  experimentation.  Such  learning 
may  be  called  ideational  readjustment,  inasmuch  as  it  goes  on 
in  idea. 

To  have  conscious  learning  the  action  system  must  expand 
to  include  ideas  descriptive  of  the  conditions  and  results  of 
action.  Such  ideas  are  an  outcome  of  conscious  memory. 
They  can  be  acquired  only  as  a  result  of  actual  experimenta- 
tion. We  may  call  them  experience.  The  gathering  of  expe- 

•     i  mi  •      •      Primary  and 

nence  is  the  function  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres.     This  is      secondary 


not  their  primary,  but  rather  their  secondary  function.     Pri- 
marily,  as  we  have  seen,1  the  hemispheres  furnish  a  complex      bmm 

1  Compare  §  7. 


148  Principles  of  Education 

mass  of  interconnections  in  which  hereditary  preferences  are 
largely  wanting.  Thus  cerebral  control  means  ready  diffu- 
sion of  impulses  and  corresponding  facility  in  readjustment. 
In  this  way  learning  by  trial  and  error  becomes  easy.  With 
the  growth  of  the  power  to  be  affected  by  the  conditions  as- 
sociated with  activity  so  as  to  retain  a  symbolic  account  of 
experimentation,  the  brain  gains  its  secondary  function,  —  a 
function  that,  one  might  say,  ultimately  overshadows  the 
primary  use. 

The  development  of  cognitive  consciousness  and  of  ideational 
readjustment  involves  a  change  in  the  selective  principle  as 
well  as  in  the  material  for  experimentation.  Feeling  becomes 
reenforced  by  cognition  and  develops  into  judgment.  The 
details  of  this  transition  and  of  various  important  phases  in 
the  evolution  of  ideational  readjustment  will  be  dealt  with  in 
later  chapters. 

Experimentation  and  selection  may,  then,  be  said  to  consti- 
tute the  general  form  of  readjustment.  In  racial  evolution 
the  experiments  are  individuals,  who  represent  variations  from 
the  norm  of  the  stock.  Selection  is  here  the  natural  or  elimi- 
native  selection  of  the  environment.  In  individual  develop- 
ment the  process  of  experimentation  and  selection  assumes 
two  phases.  The  first  is  that  of  learning  by  trial  and  error, 
where  the  experiments  represent  reactions  drawn  from  the 
resources  of  a  differentiated  action  system,  and  the  selection 
is  by  the  inhibitive  or  favoring  effect  of  affective  consciousness. 
Here  the  inner,  symbolic  life  first  manifests  itself,  in  repre- 
senting the  selective  influence  of  the  environment.  With 
the  development  of  conscious  memory  and  experience,  the 
action  system  is  supplemented  by  the  addition  of  many  ideas 
in  regard  to  action.  Thus  the  inner  life  is  equipped  not  only 
with  the  power  of  selection,  but  also  with  plans  which  furnish 
the  material  for  ideational  readjustment,  and  learning  becomes 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    149 


conscious,  symbolic,  anticipatory  of  the  physical  movements 
of  readjustment,  and  so  facilitating  to  a  remarkable  degree  this 
process. 

SECTION  18.     Consciousness  and  readjustment 

The  fundamental  relation  of  consciousness  to  readjustment 
was  indicated  in  the  last  section.  It  anticipates  actual  by 
ideational  readjustment.  Thus  learning  is  made  quicker, 
easier,  and  less  dangerous,  and  its  possibilities  are  very  greatly 
increased.  We  learn  more  quickly  because  thought  can  hasten 
more  speedily  in  its  anticipation  of  the  results  of  action  than 
movement  in  the  realization  of  these  consequences.  We  gain 
the  ease  and  safety  of  mere  reflection  in  place  of  the  effort  and 
the  risk  of  actual  trial.  Finally,  through  its  powers  of  analysis 
and  synthesis,  thought  is  able  to  coordinate  very  complex  move- 
ments that  otherwise  would  be  impossible.  Thus  the  resources 
of  action  are  enormously  enhanced.  Very  many  activities 
are  brought  into  interplay,  and  long-continued  series  of  move- 
ments are  integrated  through  the  power  of  consciousness  to 
review  quickly  the  various  factors  involved,  and  to  push 
through  in  an  economic  way  the  organization  of  a  comprehen- 
sive plan.  These  advantages  will  be  illustrated  in  greater 
detail  later. 

We  may  say,  then,  that  the  primary  function  of  conscious- 
ness is  to  facilitate  readjustment.  Three  subordinate  prin- 
ciples may  be  stated  to  emphasize  phases  of  this  fundamental 
relation.  The  first  of  these  is  that  all  consciousness  is  motor. 
Learning  is,  as  was  suggested  in  an  earlier  section,1  always 
learning  to  do.  Professor  Baldwin  calls  this  principle  the  "law 
of  dynamogenesis," 2  and  Professor  James  makes  it  one  of 
the  "working  hypotheses"  upon  which  psychology  proceeds.3 


Primary 
function 
of  con- 
sciousness 


Three  impli- 
cations as 
to  its  na- 
ture: (i) 
Its  impul- 
sive char- 
acter 


§  16. 


2  Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes,  p.  165. 
*  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  I. 


150 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  Its  de- 
pendence 
on  emer- 
gencies 


The  principle  seems  to  follow  as  a  natural  consequence  of  the 
structure  of  the  nervous  system,  where  all  paths  lead  to  the 
muscles.  This  is  true  even  of  the  complicated  fibers  in  the 
cerebral  hemispheres,  for  these  ultimately  land  the  currents 
they  bear  in  the  motor  areas.  It  is  true  that  ordinary  obser- 
vation seems  to  furnish  us  with  cases  where  men  think  but  do 
not  act.  However,  minute  experimentation  invariably  reveals 
some  physical  expression  in  eye  movements,  muscular  tension, 
change  in  circulation,  or  the  like. 

A  second  subordinate  principle  is  that  consciousness  occurs 
only  when  readjustment  of  some  sort  is  necessary.  With 
many  psychologists  the  criterion  of  consciousness  in  the  lower 
animals  is  their  power  to  learn.  This  is  the  view  of  Spencer, 
Bain,  Romanes,  Royce,  Baldwin,  and  others  too  numerous 
to  mention.  The  newer  school  of  so-called  "functional" 
psychologists  reemphasizes  this  point,  declaring  that  conscious- 
ness is  what  it  does,  and  that,  in  consequence,  it  never  appears 
except  as  it  functions  in  readjustment. 

"A  closer  inspection  of  the  situation  will  suggest  to  us  the 
generalization,  which  is  undoubtedly  correct,  that  we  shall 
find  consciousness  appearing  at  those  points  where  there  is 
incapacity  on  the  part  of  the  purely  physiological  mechanism 
to  cope  with  the  demands  of  the  surroundings.  If  the  reflexes 
and  the  automatic  acts  were  wholly  competent  to  steer  the  or- 
ganism throughout  its  course,  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose 
consciousness  would  ever  put  in  an  appearance.  Certainly 
we  never  find  it  intruding  itself  where  these  conditions  are 
observed,  except  in  pathological  instances."  * 

(3)  Critical  The  third  principle  may  be  immediately  derived  from  this, 
of  The  fac-  ^s  consciousness  is'  always  the  outgrowth  of  disturbances  in 
tors  that  it  activities  that  up  to  that  time  were  performed  instinctively, 

represents  .  r 

so  it  consists  in  a  gradual  process  of  representing  in  idea  the 

1  Angell,  Psychology,  p.  50. 


The  Conditions   of  Individual  Development    151 


, 


essential  features  of  the  situations  where  things  are  going 
wrong.  The  preliminary  step  in  this  process  is  inhibition. 
Inhibition  provides  the  opportunity  for  the  growth  and  the 
utilization  of  ideational  or  reflective  experimentation,  —  if 
you  will,  deliberation.  Consciousness  evolves  as  a  symbolism, 
representing  such  features  of  the  situation  and  of  the  experi- 
mental efforts  to  solve  it  as  prove  most  valuable  in  leading  to 
effective  action.  It  is  always  at  the  critical  point  in  the 
struggle  for  readjustment,  and  its  view  is  either  wholly  or  for 
the  time  limited  to  attending  to  such  factors  in  the  situations 
with  which  it  deals  as  must  be  distinguished  in  order  that  the 
appropriate  reactions  may  be  applied  to  them. 

Consciousness,  therefore,  may  be  conceived  as  largely  con- 
cerned in  rendering  intelligent  actions  that  at  first  were  un- 
consciously performed.  Thus  the  transition  from  instinct  to 
reason  seems  like  one  from  an  unconscious  to  a  conscious 
teleology.  The  mind  fathoms  the  mechanism  by  which  the 
individual  gains  his  ends,  in  order  to  improve  it  in  this  or  that 
detail.  As  this  process  of  taking  under  control  the  functions 
goes  on,  consciousness  attends  first  to  the  matters  that  are  more 
immediate.  It  learns  how  to  do  things  before  it  learns  why 
they  are  done.  Subsequent  mental  development  proceeds  TWO  direc- 
in  two  directions.  On  the  one  hand,  it  goes  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  end  immediately  to  be  gained  to  more  and  more 
remote  ends,  thus  unraveling  the  teleology  of  its  being.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  analyzes  each  activity  into  the  elements  of 
which  it  is  composed,  thereby  approaching  more  nearly  to  a 
comprehension  of  the  physical  and  physiological  and  even 
the  psychological  mechanism  upon  which  its  effectiveness 
depends.  Both  kinds  of  knowledge,  normative  and  natural, 
knowledge  of  values  and  of  agencies,  of  final  and  of  efficient 
causes,  are  indispensable  to  a  complete  and  satisfactory 
adjustment. 


tions      in 
which  con- 
sciousness 
develops 


152  Principles  of  Education 

Social  heredity  presents  to  consciousness  the  same  problem 
of  reconstruction  as  does  physiological  heredity.  The  activ- 
ities and  the  instruments  of  activity,  the  control  of  which  comes 
to  us  by  imitation,  are  not  at  first  comprehended  either  in  their 
mechanism  or  in  their  ultimate  significance.  But  our  social, 
even  more  than  our  physiological  inheritance  needs  to  be 
corrected  and  improved,  and  one  of  the  principal  tasks  of  con- 
sciousness is  to  further  this  process  by  learning  the  meaning 
of  our  social  practice. 

Summary  In  summary,  we  may  say  that  the  fundamental  function  of 

consciousness  is  that  of  readjustment.  Thus  the  speed,  the 
ease,  the  safety,  and  the  possibilities  of  readjustment  are  to  an 
extraordinary  degree  improved.  As  subordinate  principles, 
we  note  that  consciousness  always  results  in  movement,  that 
it  never  appears  except  when  there  is  need  for  readjustment, 
and  that  its  problem  is  that  of  unraveling  the  plan  that  lies 
behind  our  unconscious  instincts  and  uncomprehended  tradi- 
tions in  order  to  reform  it. 

SECTION  19.    Habit  and  readjustment 

The  process  of  readjustment  results  in  the  establishment  of 
habits.  We  have  already  discussed1  the  physiological  condi- 
tions that  give  rise  to  the  associations  to  which  we  apply  this 
name.  Habit  is  due  to  specialized  growth.  A  stimulating  or 
unsatisfactory  condition  leads  to  diffuse  reactions.  Those 
that  are  unsatisfactory  are  inhibited  and  eliminated.  If  any 
be  satisfactory,  the  synapsis,  or  association  of  nerve  fibers 
through  which  it  was  brought  about,  receives  a  further  supply 
of  nutrition.  Thus  it  becomes  a  preferred  association,  while 
others  are  permitted  to  atrophy.  It  is  interesting  to  note 
that  both  the  experimental  reactions  and  the  strengthening  of 

1  Compare  §  5. 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    153 

the  preferred  associations  are  the  product  of  the  inner  powers 
of  the  organism.  Here,  as  everywhere,  the  general  principle 
that  change,  variation,  growth,  is  from  within,  the  environ- 
ment simply  acting  as  a  stimulating  or  selective  agency,  is 
illustrated. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  formation  and  strengthening  of  a  habit  Habit  as  fo- 
illustrates '  the  inertia  of  growth.1  It  involves  specialization  J^of 
and  the  loss  of  a  certain  amount  of  flexibility.  A  result  of  flexibility 
readjustment,  it  would  seem  to  interfere  with  all  readjustment 
not  along  dependent  lines  of  development.  Every  time  an 
experiment  is  converted  into  a  habit  a  certain  number  of  experi- 
ments have  been  choked  out,  and  are  less  likely  to  appear  again. 
The  possibilities  that  have  been  tried  and  found  wanting  are, 
when  the  satisfactory  solution  has  been  found,  no  longer  as 
they  were  at  first,  liquidated  resources,  but  tied-up  or,  perhaps, 
used-up  capital.  Constant  inhibition  has  led  to  the  abandon- 
ment of  some  reactions ;  others  have  been  appropriated  by 
certain  stimuli.  The  tendency  to  diffusion  has  been  checked. 
The  movements  of  the  body  have  become  orderly  and  signifi- 
cant, but  its  power  to  modify  readily  its  methods  of  reaction 
has  suffered  diminution. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  this  power 
of  readjusting  is  completely  lost.  One  becomes  less  and  less 
likely  to  resort  to  any  other  than  the  habitual  responses  to  a 
certain  emergency;  that  is,  the  amount  of  dissatisfaction  neces- 
sary in  order  that  this  preferred  association  may  be  broken  up 
and  another  substituted  has  been  increased.  Here,  however, 
another  factor  must  be  considered.  It  is  that  of  consciousness. 
Consciousness  facilitates  greatly,  as  we  have  seen,  the  forming 
of  habits.  In  the  first  place,  as  affective  consciousness,  its 
degree  of  sensitivity  is  a  measure  of  the  intensity  of  stimula- 
tion and  the  force  of  inhibition,  and  so  of  the  activity  of  ex- 

1  Compare  §  5. 


154  Principles  of  Education 

Cognition  as  perimentation  and  the  rapidity  of  selection.  As  cognitive 
•dectioi  consciousness  it  reenforces  inhibitions.  When  the  impulse  to 
in  the  for-  perform  a  previously  inhibited  act  arises,  memory  adds  an 
habitT0  account  of  the  results  that  followed  it.  This  account 

strengthens  the  felt  repugnance  to  the  act. 

Experiment  We  may  illustrate  the  manner  in  which  consciousness  assists 
tionlll0ufsJ3s  in  the  formation  of  habits  by  the  experiments  of  Professor 
Thorndike  on  animals.1  Many  species  were  tested,  especially 
dogs,  cats,  and  monkeys.  One  method  employed  was  to  place 
food  in  a  box  the  door  to  which  was  secured  by  a  fastening  that 
could  be  released  by  pulling  a  string,  pushing  up  a  latch,  or, 
perhaps,  simpler  movements.  The  animal,  left  without  nour- 
ishment until  it  became  quite  hungry,  was  persistent  in  its 
endeavors  to  get  at  the  food.  After  much  effort,  largely  of  a 
random  character,  a  chance  movement  usually  occurred  by 
which  the  door  was  opened  and  the  food  obtained.  On  a 
second  experiment,  the  same  animal  showed,  as  a  rule,  little 
or  no  gain  in  the  ability  to  single  out  the  successful  movement. 
A  long  series  of  trials,  however,  reduced  the  time  consumed 
in  random  efforts,  until  finally  they  were  all  eliminated,  and  the 
animal  immediately  performed  the  act  by  which  the  door  was 
opened.  Thus  it  had  learned  the  trick  of  getting  into  the  box. 
It  is  evident  that  the  growth  of  a  more  intelligent  conscious- 
ness would  facilitate  this  process.  Keener  feelings  would 
intensify  the  disappointment  of  failure,  thus  inhibiting  and 
eliminating  more  rapidly  the  unsuccessful  movements.  On 
the  other  hand,  unless  it  were  supplemented  by  attention,  that 
singles  out  the  different  acts  in  order  that  failures  may  be 
distinguished  from  successes  and  the  proper  feelings  attached 
to  each,  intensity  of  affective  excitement  would  merely  increase 
the  rage  for  experimental  effort  without  directing  it.  This 
sharpening  of  attention  is,  doubtless,  the  forerunner  and  the 
1  Compare  Animal  Intelligence. 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    155 

companion  of  cognition.  We  may  speak  of  it  as  sensation,  the 
mere  power  to  distinguish.  Better  memory  converts  it  into 
perception.  The  meaning  of  different  parts  of  the  box,  and 
of  the  efforts  made  to  get  into  it  by  way  of  them,  becomes 
attached  to  the  impulses  to  perform  these  acts.  The  animal 
recognizes,  as  well  as  feels,  the  futility  of  some  impulses  and 
the  promise  of  others.  Put  briefly,  it  remembers  —  in  the 
most  rudimentary  way  —  how  it  got  in,  and  also  how  it  failed 
to  get  in.  Thus  cognition  reenforces  affective  consciousness 
in  hastening  the  act  of  learning. 

Consciousness,  therefore,  aids  in  the  formation  of  habits. 
It  assists  learning  by  trial  and  error.  This  it  does  by  further- 
ing the  process  of  selection.  Cognitive  consciousness  is  here 
merely  the  servant  of  affective  consciousness,  the  function  of 
which  is,  as  we  have  seen,  that  of  selection.  But  cognition  has  Cognition  as 
another  and  radically  different  function.  It  furnishes  the  of^read3- 
material  for  ideational  readjustment.  Indeed,  we  may  say  justing  in 
that  from  the  very  beginning  this  function  is  apparent.  In 
reenforcing  the  inhibition  of  feeling,  cognition  works  by  antici- 
pating the  results  of  impulses,  by  giving  them  a  meaning. 
This  meaning  is  a  symbolic  or  ideational  element.  The  rejec- 
tion through  its  assistance  of  the  impulse  to  which  it  is  attached 
is  therefore  ideational  readjustment.  This  function  is  in  the 
case  where  cognition  takes  the  primitive  form  of  perception 
concealed  by  the  fact  that  each  perception  is  dependent  on  the 
actual  presence  of  a  stimulating  sense  object.  Thus  the  im- 
pulses associated  with  the  perceptions  come  up  in  very  much 
the  same  order  that  they  would  if  the  perceptive  recognition 
of  them  were  absent.  Perception  does  not  primarily  increase 
the  number  of  impulses.  It  does  not,  therefore,  add  at  once 
to  the  resources  of  action,  but  simply  facilitates  the  rejection 
or  the  acceptance  of  the  impulses  that  would  have  been  sug- 
gested by  mere  sensation.  However,  the  character  of  these 


156  Principles  of  Education 

Cognition  as  impulses  is  changed  by  the  reading  of  meaning  into  them, 
a  saving  of  ^hus  the  way  is  opened  for  an  addition  to  the  action  system, 
for  future  This  advance  appears  when  a  new  situation  is  faced  having 
hence1'  "  some  of  the  elements  of  situations  that  have  already  been  ex- 
perienced. Here  perception  does  yield  suggestions  to  action 
that  would  not  come  up  without  its  assistance.  If,  for  example, 
after  an  animal  has  learned  how  to  effect  its  entrance  to  a  box, 
the  character  of  the  fastening  is  changed,  perception  might 
recognize  this  change,  and  so  inhibit  without  trial  the  habitual 
method  of  endeavoring  to  open  the  door.  If  much  experience 
in  opening  doors  with  various  sorts  of  fastenings  had  been 
gained,  a  new  device  partly  resembling  others  would  be  less 
apt  to  create  difficulty.  A  method  of  attack  promising  suc- 
cess might  be  initiated  without  a  lot  of  preliminary  more  or 
less  random  experimentation.  Thus  perception  would  repre- 
sent experience,  an  actual  expansion  of  the  action  system, 
(i)  serving  It  is  evident  that  in  its  function  of  accumulating  and  recall- 
and'remote  m&  experience,  perception  busies  itself  with  a  task  the  value 
aim,_and  of  which  is,  to  say  the  least,  somewhat  indirect  and  remote. 
The  immediate  aim  of  the  process  of  learning  is  to  get  rid  of 
the  wrong  associations  and  to  establish  the  right  one.  But 
cognition,  even  in  aiding  in  the  process  of  selection  by  which 
a  habit  is  formed,  is  at  the  same  time  saving  an  account  of  the 
impulses  that  are  thus  eliminated.  By  remembering  it  is 
able  to  reject.  Elimination  is  primarily,  as  it  were,  forgetful- 
ness,  but  here  we  have  elimination  by  recall.  Consciousness 
helps  by  remembering  not  only  the  successful  reaction,  which 
alone  is  preserved  by  habit,  but  also  the  unsuccessful  ones. 
In  short,  it  saves  an  account  of  the  conditions  and  results  of 
experimentation,  the  sole  use  of  which  is  to  facilitate  future 
experimentation,  rather  than  to  strengthen  existing  tendencies. 
It  is  of  value  to  habit  only  in  so  far  as  a  habit  is  not  yet  formed 
or  needs  to  be  remodeled.  Its  recall  of  failures  and  alterna- 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    157 


tives,  of  conditions  and  reasons,  merely  unsettles  a  habit  that 
is  already  established. 

Thus,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  the  formation  of  habits  is 
using  up  the  resources,  the  flexibility  of  the  organism,  on  the 
other,  the  storing  up  of  experience  is  increasing  these  resources. 
Consciousness  is,  therefore,  constantly  aiding  in  the  formation 
of  habits  and  also  accumulating  material  for  their  reconstruc- 
tion. It  is  a  trite  proposition  that,  while  habits  formed  unin- 
telligently  may  master  us,  those  formed  with  consciousness  are 
ordinarily  our  servants.  This  does  not  refer,  of  course,  to  the 
issue  of  strength  of  character  as  against  mere  knowledge  of 
consequences  in  the  matter  of  the  control  of  moral  habits,  but 
rather  to  that  of  the  power  to  apply  one's  habits  accurately 
and  freely  to  the  various  emergencies  of  life.  The  growth  of 
cognition  and  of  conscious  memory  means  the  growth  of  a 
power  to  take  account  in  a  more  and  more  delicate  way  of  those 
preliminary  experiments  that  it  is  the  business  of  habituation 
to  banish  and  forget. 

While  we  are  fixing  our  attention  on  the  fact  that  experience 
is  engaged  in  the  task  of  saving  a  description  of  the  activities 
that  are  eliminated  in  the  formation  of  habits,  we  should  not 
utterly  neglect  the  antithetical  phase  of  the  matter.  The 
experiences  that  are  saved  to  be  recalled  tend  themselves  to 
be  selected  or  habitual  ones.  "Repetition  is  the  mother  of 
studies,"  and  this  is  true  whether  study  concerns  habits  of 
action  or  ways  of  thinking.  The  more  sensitive  the  memory, 
the  less  likely  it  is  that  events  which  are  not  repeated  will  be 
lost,  and  the  greater  the  amount  of  experience  that  will  be  saved 
for  the  reconstruction  of  habits.  However,  even  the  most 
sensitive  memory  finds,  as  we  shall  see,  great  need  for  selec- 
tion, for  preferential  remembering  and  generous  forgetfulness. 
Some  experiences  are  worth  more  in  the  emergencies  of  life 
than  others.  Some  contain  essential  principles  that  can  be 


(2)     counter- 
acting the 
losses  in- 
volved in 
habit  form- 
ing 


Habit  as  con- 
trolling 
memory 
and   cogni- 
tion1' 


158 


Principles  of  Education 


Habits  of 
action   as 
contribu- 
tory to 
readjust-  ' 
ment 


used  constantly ;  others  find  application  only  occasionally, 
or,  perhaps,  not  at  all.  Others  are  easily  and  accurately  put 
into  practice.  The  separation  of  the  useful  and  the  reliable 
from  the  unimportant  and  the  fallacious  is  the  work  of  a  process 
of  selection  quite  analogous  to  that  by  which  habits  are 
formed. 

Thus,  while  experience  finds  its  function  in  the  formation 
and  reconstruction  of  habits,  and  is  a  product  of  the  power  to 
save  that  which  is  eliminated  in  ordinary  learning  by  trial  and 
error,  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  itself  an  example  of  habit.  We 
have  habits  of  thought  as  well  as  of  action.  Both  are  results 
of  selection,  of  elimination,  of  forgetfulness.  But  while  the 
primary  function  of  the  habit  of  action  is  to  maintain  an  adjust- 
ment, that  of  the  habit  of  thought  is  to  effect  a  readjustment. 

We  have  spoken  of  habits  of  action  as  interfering  with  read- 
justment except  along  dependent  lines  of  development.  It 
should  be  noted  that  some  such  habits  are,  like  some  habits  of 
thought,  more  fundamental,  more  reliable  than  others.  Such 
habits  will  have,  in  consequence,  many  dependent  lines  of 
development,  and  will  be  correspondingly  useful  in  readjust- 
ment. Thus,  while  the  primary  function  of  habit  of  action  is 
to  maintain  an  adjustment,  if  it  be  a  typical  or  fundamental 
habit,  it  will  need  in  order  to  meet  new  situations,  not  elimina- 
tion, but  rather  reconstruction  or  recombination.  A  long  and 
severe  process  of  selection  is  wont  to  leave  an  individual  with 
a  set  of  habits  that  possesses  to  a  marked  degree  this  second- 
ary function  of  cooperating  in  readjustment.  Here  selection 
works  in  the  individual,  as  it  has  through  countless  ages  in  the 
race,  to  equip  it  with  just  that  action  system  which  will  prove 
not  only  most  adapted  to  conditions  that  remain  permanent, 
but  also  most  adjustable  to  those  that  change.  Moreover,  the 
results  of  racial  processes  of  selection  get  expressed  both  in  the 
hereditary  equipment  of  the  individual  and  in  the  habits  formed 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development    159 

by  imitation,  for  imitation  hands  on  a  social  heredity  that  is 
made  up  of  patterns  which  have  survived  ages  of  selection. 

To  comprehend  the  use  of  habits  of  action  in  situations 
other  than  those  for  which  they  were  originally  formed,  we 
must  bear  in  mind  the  complicated  nature  of  the  stimuli  to 
which  most  reactions  are  made.  It  is  natural  to  regard  a 
habit  as  a  mechanical  response  to  a  simple  stimulus.  Such  is 
rarely  the  case.  Indeed,  it  is  not  true  to  any  extent  even  of 
the  reflexes,  which,  according  to  Professor  Jennings,1  depend 
not  only  on  the  external  stimulus,  but  also  on  the  "  physio- 
logical state  of  the  organism."  A  habit  is,  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  term,  a  more  or  less  complicated  response  to  a  set 
of  stimuli.  Now  the  extent  to  which  such  a  response  can  be 
reconstructed  depends  upon  the  extent  to  which  the  factors  in 
both  the  stimuli  and  the  response  are  susceptible  of  analysis 
and  of  recombination  in  new  associations. 

The  existence  of  a  habit  that  is  adjusted  in  part  to  a  new 
situation  gives  to  its  possessor  a  starting  point  for  experimenta- 
tion. To  a  dog,  endeavoring  in  the  experiments  of  Thorndike 
to  get  into  a  box,  the  situation  is  not  overwhelmingly  new. 
The  box  is  an  obstruction  of  an  inanimate  sort,  and  is  to  be 
dealt  with  as  such,  and  not  as  a  living  thing.  In  appearance 
it  is  sufficiently  frail  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  breaking  it 
open  by  pawing,  gnawing,  or  what  Mr.  Hobhouse2  calls 
"scrabbling."  These  suggestions  offer  a  basis  from  which 
further  experimentation  may  proceed  with  a  fair  prospect  of 
success.  Of  course,  the  dog  cannot  be  supposed  to  be  con- 
scious of  the  fact  that  his  first  endeavors  are  prompted  by 
what  is  familiar  in  the  situation.  He  acts  without  reflection, 
but,  nevertheless,  with  the  handicap  of  a  sufficient  sense  of 
recognition  of  the  emergency  to  replace  what  would  otherwise 

1  Compare  Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  p.  280 ;  also  §  9. 
1  Mind  in  Evolution, 


i6o 


Principles  of  Education 


struction 
of  habits 


be  mere  blind    experiments   by    a    fairly   promising   line  of 
effort. 

Value  of  ex-  The  process  of  analysis  and  reorganization  involved  in  the 
the^reco™  advance  from  the  preliminary  tentative  endeavors  to  a  properly 
adjusted  movement  may  go  on  by  the  method  of  trial  and 
error.  It  is,  however,  greatly  facilitated  by  experience  in 
reference  to  the  habits  that  are  employed.  Such  experience 
enables  a  preliminary  stage  of  reflection  and  ideational  read- 
justment before  the  first  experiments  are  permitted.  It  also 
constantly  illuminates  the  subsequent  experiments,  thus  has- 
tening the  progress  toward  a  conclusion.  A  man,  before 
launching  into  a  series  of  efforts  to  open  a  door  with  a  strange 
fastening,  would  carefully  inspect  it,  and  reflect  upon  what 
method  of  attack  would  be  likely  to  effect  the  desired  entrance. 
Moreover,  his  experience  would  cause  each  unsuccessful  ex- 
periment to  teach  him  more  than  it  would  the  brute.  How- 
ever, even  in  his  reflection  he  tends  to  use  habitual  thought 
rather  than  isolated  or  untested  ideas  as  to  the  way  things 
may  be  done. 

The  complicated  character  of  the  situations  which  offer  the 
problem  of  readjustment  to  the  higher  animals  and  to  man 
makes  it  likely  that  at  least  some  factors  therein  contained  will 
be  familiar.  This  familiarity  offers  the  opportunity  for  pre- 
viously formed  habits  of  action  as  well  as  for  habits  of  thought 
to  aid  in  readjustment.  Thus  habits,  if  they  be  fundamental, 
and  especially  if  they  be  both  fundamental  and  accompanied 
by  experience  as  to  their  use,  are,  so  far  from  being  a  bar  to 
learning,  the  indispensable  agency  of  its  continuous  progress. 

The  general  relation  between  habit  and  readjustment  may, 
then,  be  stated  as  follows :  Readjustment  in  the  individual 
means  the  formation  of  habits.  This  process  establishes  pref- 
erential associations  and  eliminates  the  tendency  toward  dif- 
fusion, thus  destroying,  as  it  were,  the  power  of  experimenta- 


Summary 


The  Conditions  of  Individual  Development     161 

tion  on  the  basis  of  which  the  early  capacity  to  learn  is  based. 
Thus  habits  of  action  are  a  result  of  readjustment,  and  an  ob- 
stacle to  future  readjustment  except  along  dependent  lines  of 
development.  However,  the  loss  of  flexibility  that  learning  by 
trial  and  error  involves  is  in  part,  at  least,  made  good  by  the 
power  of  consciousness  to  retain  experience  in  regard  to  the 
rejected  experiments.  This  experience  becomes  immediately 
available  in  the  process  of  experimentation,  since  it  accom- 
panies the  recurrence  of  impulses  to  perform  acts  already  found 
unsuccessful,  thus  reenforcing  by  memory  of  their  consequence 
the  felt  tendency  to  inhibit  them.  Here  cognitive  consciousness 
aids  affective  consciousness  in  its  task  of  eliminating  failures 
and  strengthening  successes.  When,  however,  new  situations 
appear,  the  experience  gained  by  cognition  offers  sugges- 
tions toward  readjustment  that  are  drawn  from  the  unsuc- 
cessful as  well  as  the  successful  experiments.  It  thus  enables 
suggestions  to  action  to  appear  which  would  otherwise  have 
been  lost,  surrounding  them  with  a  description  of  their  condi- 
tions and  results  that  makes  an  ideational  determination  of 
their  availability  possible.  Thus,  while  habit  strengthens 
adjustment,  cognitive  consciousness  everywhere  exists  to 
further  readjustment. 

But  while  the  function  of  cognition  is  to  provide  material 
for  the  reconstruction  of  habits,  the  experience  that  it  hands 
on  is  itself  subject  to  the  same  laws  of  selection  as  are  habits 
of  action.  We  forget  experience,  just  as  we  inhibit  impulses. 
There  are  habits  of  thought  as  well  as  of  action.  Indeed,  the 
relative  availability  of  experience  for  purposes  of  readjustment 
depends  upon  the  excellence  of  the  process  of  selection  by  which 
it  has  been  garnered.  In  this  process  the  individual  is  aided 
by  imitation,  through  which  his  experience  is  led  to  be  the  same 
as  that  of  the  race.  Thus  he  inherits  in  his  experience  the  re- 
sults of  ages  of  social  evolution,  as  in  his  physical  action  sys- 


1 62  Principles  of  Education 

tern  he  inherits  the  product  of  aeons  of  physiological  develop- 
ment. 

Habits  of  action  are  an  aid  to  readjustment  along  dependent 
lines  of  development.  New  situations  are  seldom  wholly  new, 
and  in  so  far  as  they  are  familiar,  the  existing  habits  of  the 
individual  may  be  and  often  are  applied  to  them.  In  such  ap- 
plication they  need  reconstruction.  This  process  may  go  on 
by  mere  blind  trial  and  error,  but  it  is  enormously  aided  by 
experience  in  regard  both  to  the  use  of  the  habits  and  to  the 
process  of  experimentation  by  which  they  were  formed  or 
have  been  in  part  modified.  This  experience  also  makes  it 
more  likely  that  a  new  situation  will  be  recognized  as  offer- 
ing the  opportunity  for  the  application  of  an  old  habit.  In 
general,  therefore,  experience  everywhere  plays  about  the 
habits  of  the  individual,  saving  and,  indeed,  enhancing  his 
flexibility  by  converting  his  very  automatisms  into  capital  for 
progress. 


CHAPTER  VI 

RECAPITULATION 

SECTION  20.     Various  theories  of  recapitulation 

IN  discussing  the  hereditary  basis  of  individual  develop- 
ment1 mention  was  made  of  the  fact  of  recapitulation.  Onto- 
genetic  is  parallel  to  phylogenetic  development.  The  action 
system  of  the  individual  tends  to  become  available  in  the 
same  order  in  which  it  evolves  in  the  history  of  the  race.  This 
theory  became  current  in  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. As  a  biological  principle,  it  is  associated  with  the  no- 
tion of  evolution  that  then  appeared,  but  it  was  merely  a  vague 
general  conception  until  it  reached  expression  as  a  fact  of  em- 
bryology, first  in  a  suggestion  of  Agassiz,  and  later  in  a  more 
positive  way  by  Von  Baer  and  M  tiller. 

As  the  notion  of  recapitulation  gradually  became  formu-  TWO  sorts  of 
lated,  it  attached  itself  to  two  opposing  theories  of  human  ™^pltl 
nature  and  development.  In  a  sense  these  two  conceptions 
were  the  descendants,  the  one  of  the  theory  of  innate  ideas  and 
the  other  of  the  view  that  all  ideas  are  derived  from  experience. 
Thus,  according  to  the  first  conception,  which  we  may  call 
that  of  psycho-physiological  recapitulation,  both  the  mental 
and  the  physical  powers  of  the  individual  expand,  irrespective 
of  training,  in  the  same  order  in  which  they  develop  in  the 
race.  They  and  the  manner  of  their  growth  are  innate.  Ac- 
cording to  the  second  conception,  that  of  cultural  recapitula- 
^16. 

163 


164 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  the 
idea  of  psy- 
cho-physio- 
logical 
recapitula- 
tion 


Reactionary 
emphasis 
on  culture 
and  cul- 
tural re- 
capitula- 
tion 


tion,  the  natural  order  of  presenting  the  experience,  by  which 
alone  a  child's  development  can  be  obtained,  is  that  of  the  ac- 
quisition of  this  experience  by  the  race. 

The  idea  of  psycho-physiological  recapitulation  is  fore- 
shadowed in  the  theories  of  Rousseau,  in  which,  curiously 
enough,  we  find  a  very  pronounced  empiricism,  founded  on 
agreement  with  Locke,  together  with  the  conception  of  develop- 
ment according  to  nature,  which  meant  that  a  child  left  alone 
to  get  his  own  education  in  a  natural  way  would  grow  to  the 
full  maturity  of  his  powers  by  mere  inner  expansion.  It  is  true 
that  Rousseau  counted  on  the  influence  of  a  very  simple  nat- 
ural environment,  but  after  all  it  was  the  realization  of  what 
God  or  Nature  had  planted  in  the  child  that  to  him  constituted 
the  true  goal  of  education.  Froebel  adopted  this  notion  of 
development  from  within,  giving  it  a  philosophical  interpre- 
tation, and  declaring  it  to  be  an  epitome  of  the  evolution  of 
the  race,  thus  stating  quite  clearly  the  notion  of  recapitulation. 
Unlike  Rousseau,  he  did  not  regard  the  formative  culture  of 
society  as  an  evil,  but  he  agrees  with  that  revolutionist  in 
placing  all  emphasis  upon  inner  development. 

Among  other  German  thinkers  of  the  period,  however,  there 
was  a  very  decided  reaction  against  Rousseau's  rejection  of 
social  culture,  the  heritage  of  civilization.  With  them  the 
specific  nature  of  the  experience  which  constitutes  the  educa- 
tion of  the  child  becomes  again  of  importance,  if  not,  indeed, 
the  main  consideration.  In  Lessing's  Education  of  the  Human 
Race  we  find  emphasized  the  notion  that  humanity  has  devel- 
oped through  stages  of  culture,  each  of  which  constitutes  an 
inevitable  step  in  its  education.  It  gets  to  the  higher  stages 
only  by  living  through  the  lower  ones.  Thus  earlier  forms  of 
culture  that  progress  has  rejected  are,  after  all,  indispensable 
parts  of  God's  scheme  in  raising  us  to  our  present  civiliza- 
tion, —  a  civilization  which  is  not,  as  Rousseau  thought,  man- 


Recapitulation 


165 


tion  con- 
ceived as  a 
logically 
necessary 
order    of 
growth 


made  and  evil,  but  God-made,  and  one  to  which  it  is  God's 
plan  that  we  should  strive  to  adapt  the  child.  Moreover, 
just  as  the  race  could  reach  the  higher  altitudes  only  by  trav- 
ersing the  intermediate  ones,  so  the  child  must  pass  through 
savagery  and  barbarism  on  the  road  to  enlightenment. 

Among  the  earlier  exponents  of  the  view,  recapitulation  was  Recapitula- 
thought  of  as  a  logical  necessity  rather  than  as  a  mere  em- 
pirical fact.  Thus  psycho-physiological  recapitulation  was 
conceived  to  be  a  consequence  of  the  laws  of  mental  and  bodily 
development,  which  must,  of  course,  operate  in  the  race  and 
in  the  individual  alike.  Growth,  whether  of  mind  or  body, 
was  regarded  as  a  realization  of  the  inner  potentiality  of  the 
soul  or  of  the  germ,  a  self-active  process,  governed  by  a  law  of 
inner  necessity.  We  have  here  merely  a  philosophical  premo- 
nition of  the  biological  view  of  Von  Baer  and  Miiller.  From 
the  notion  of  a  necessary  order  of  development  is  deduced  a 
consequence  that  receives  somewhat  startling  confirmation  in 
the  discoveries  of  embryology. 

The  same  necessity  that  Froebel  saw  in  psycho-physiological 
recapitulation  Lessing  found  in  cultural  recapitulation,  or  re- 
capitulation through  education.  It  is  thought  that  the  process 
of  absorbing  the  culture  of  humanity  must  pass  through  cer- 
tain necessary  stages.  This  is  not  because  the  powers  of  the 
individual  expand  in  a  certain  way,  but  because  the  culture 
material  of  one  age  constitutes  the  logical  and  necessary  prep- 
aration for  that  of  the  next  in  the  order  of  progress.  This 
view  is  that  suggested  by  Herbart  in  the  ^Esthetic  Revelation  of 
the  World,  and  developed  by  Ziller  into  the  Culture  Epoch  the- 
ory. In  this  form  it  has  played  a  familiar  part  in  educational 
theory  and  experiment  both  in  Germany  and  in  the  United 
States. 

Up  to  a  certain  point  the  criticisms  of  the  two  theories  of 
recapitulation  are  alike.  In  so  far  as  the  order  of  development 


1 66  Principles  of  Education 

The  racial     of  the  physical  or  mental  powers  is,  as  it  were,  necessary  and 
°artiy  in-     inevitable,  both  racial  evolution  and  individual  development 
evitabie       must  reveal  this  order,  and  hence  correspond  to  each  other, 
accidental    Similarly,  wherever  the  culture  of  one  epoch  is  an  indispensable 
prerequisite  to  comprehending  the  culture  of  later  periods, 
and  ultimately  of  to-day,  it  must  be  given  in  the  order  of  its 
history,  as  an  introduction  to  the  life  with  which  the  child 
will  have  to  deal.     On  the  other  hand,  it  is  certain  that  neither 
biological  nor  social  evolution  reveals  any  logical  perfection  of 
progress  from  antecedent  to  consequent  conditions.     Hence 
the  way  is  opened  for  individuals  to  vary  from  racial  develop- 
Exceptions      ment.    We  might,  then,  expect,  what  as  a  matter  of  fact  is 
physiobgi-    true,  that  the  ontogenetic  series  should  not  perfectly  reproduce 
cai  recapit-   the  phylogenetic  one  in  either  psycho-physiological  or  cultural 
recapitulation.     It  is  in  the  extent  of  the  exceptions  to  recapitu- 
lation and  in  the  manner  in  which  they  are  made  that  the  main 
difference  between  the  two  types  is  to  be  found.     Concerning 
these  exceptions  to  psycho-physiological  recapitulation,  Mar- 
shall, who  makes  much  of  the  general  fact,  says :  — 

"The  history  of  development  in  different  animals  or  groups 
of  animals  offers  to  us,  as  we  have  seen,  a  series  of  ingenious, 
determined,  varied,  but  more_  or_les§_juisu.ccessful ..efforts  to 
escape  from  the  necessity  of  recapitulating,  and  to  substitute 
for  the  ancestral  process  a  more  direct  method."1 

Hence,  although  the  fact  of  recapitulation  remains  in  general 
true,  there  _is  often  a  more  direct  method  of  reaching  the  goal 
of  development.  Moreover,  this  more  direct  method  has  in 
many  cases  been  brought  into  existence.  The  most  striking 
modification  of  recapitulation  is  the  development  of  infancy. 
Here,  of  course,  no  adult  stage  of  ancestral  life  is  represented. 
Moreover,  the  existence  of  infancy  offers  at  once  opportunity 
and  need  for  further  variation  in  the  recapitulatory  series. 

1  Biological  Lectures  and  Addresses,  "The  Recapitulation  Theory,"  p.  255. 


Recapitulation  167 

The  stage  of  reproduction  is  of  necessity  postponed  until 
maturity,  thus  coming  after  epochs  that  it  antedated  count- 
less ages  in  the  phylogenetic  series.  Associated  with  the  be- 
ginning of  infancy  is  the  development  of  food  yolk  in  con- 
nection with  the  ovum.  This  store  of  nourishment  removes 
the  need  of  self-help  on  the  part  of  the  young,  and  so  makes 
possible  immaturity.  An  earlier  but  less  efficient  maturity 
is  thus  given  up  in  exchange  for  a  later  more  efficient  one. 
However,  any  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  protected  and  sup- 
ported young  to  rush  rapidly  through  the  stages  of  develop- 
ment receives  the  support  of  natural  selection,  for  it  relieves 
the  parent  by  so  much  of  the  burden  of  sustaining  other  life, 
and  thus  increases  the  total  efficiency  of  the  stock.  Hence 
variations  toward  a  more  direct  process  of  development  than 
that  of  recapitulation  will  be  encouraged.  Such  variations 
do  appear. 

"We  are  in  some  danger  of  assuming  tacitly  that  the  mode 
of  development  of  allied  animals  will  necessarily  agree  in  all 
important  respects,  or  even  in  details,  and  that  if  the  develop- 
ment of  one  member  of  a  group  be  known,  that  of  the  others 
may  be  assumed  to  be  similar.  The  more  recent  progress  of 
embryology  is  showing  us  that  such  inferences  are  not  safe, 
and  that  in  allied  genera  and  species,  or  even  in  different 
individuals  of  the  same  species,  variations  of  development 
may  occur  affecting  important  organs  and  at  almost  any  stage 
in  their  formation."1 

It  is  evident  that  recapitulation  is  an  hereditary  trait,  de-  Method  of 
pendent  very  largely  upon  the  dynamic  properties  of  the  cell. 
As  such,  it  is  liable  to  variation  along  with  all  other  hereditary 
traits.  Such  variations  will,  of  course,  be  favored  or  repressed 
by  natural  selection  according  as  they  benefit  or  injure  the 
stock.  Under  these  conditions  we  might  expect  that  the  life 

Ubid. 


1 68  Principles  of  Education 

history  of  any  individual  to-day  would  represent  inversions 
and  omissions  of  the  phylogenetic  series.  These  latter  are  very 
appropriately  called  " short  cuts"  by  Professor  Baldwin.1  On 
the  other  hand,  the  ultimate  result  is  not  required  to  be  perfect, 
so  long  as  it  works  in  the  conditions  of  life  presented  to-day. 
Recapitulation  may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  partly  the  sur- 
vival of  unnecessary  but  harmless  hereditary  tendencies,  and 
partly  as  the  only  method  by  which  the  mature  form  can  be 
developed.  The  historical  order  contains  many  accidental 
stages,  some  of  which  may  have  been  eliminated  from  individual 
development,  while  others  remain  as  rudimentary.  However, 
those  stages  that  are  indispensable  to  attaining  the  goal  are 
bound  to  remain,  and  to  appear  in  the  order  of  their  evolution. 
Recapitulation  is  an  hereditary  tendency  more  or  less  well 
calculated  to  attain  a  certain  result.  This  tendency  remains 
so  long  as  no  better  way  of  attaining  the  same  end  chances 
to  appear  and  to  replace  it  in  the  struggle  for  existence. 
Need  and  If  the  tendency  toward  psycho-physiological  recapitulation 

modifying  ^oes  not  rePresent  the  only  method  of  reaching  the  goal  of 
cultural  re-  maturity,  but  is  subject  to  variation  and  selection,  much  more 
tion  can  this  be  said  of  cultural  recapitulation.  For  cultural  re- 

capitulation concerns  social  heredity,  and  this,  as  we  have 
seen,  is  largely  made  up  of  characters  that  are  left  to  be  thus 
handed  on  in  order  that  they  may  the  more  easily  be  dropped 
out  when  the  conditions  of  life  to  which  they  are  fitted  change. 
To  modify  a  tendency  toward  psycho-physiological  recapitu- 
lation, nature  must  have  variations,  and  must  eliminate  those 
who  do  not  vary  rightly.  To  modify  a  tendency  toward  cul- 
tural recapitulation  mankind  has  only  to  change  the  method  of 
education  in  such  ways  as  are  possible.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
the  greater  part  of  our  cultural  history  could  be  left  out  of  the 
training  of  the  individual  without  seriously  impairing  his  effi- 
1  Menial  Development,  Methods  and  Processes,"  Ch.  I,  §  4. 


Recap  itu  la  tion  169 

ciency.  Consequently  much  has  been  left  out.  Social  he- 
redity is  a  badly  mutilated  fragment  of  recapitulation.  Nev- 
ertheless, much  unnecessary  recapitulation  doubtless  remains, 
because  no  substitutes  have  been  invented,  as  the  Chinese  in 
Lamb's  celebrated  "Essay  on  Roast  Pig"  continued  to  burn 
down  their  houses  in  order  to  secure  this  prized  viand,  waiting 
for  chance  to  reveal  a  better  way. 

We  may  say  then,  in  conclusion,  that  in  so  far  as  the  Summary 
phylogenetic  series  in  biological  or  cultural  evolution  repre- 
sents a  necessary  order  of  development  the  ontogenetic  series 
will  reproduce  it.  Since,  however,  this  necessary  sequence  is 
by  no  means  an  universal  characteristic  of  racial  history,  the 
way  is  open  for  exceptions  to  recapitulation.  The  tendency 
toward  psycho-physiological  recapitulation  can  be  modified 
only  by  the  method  of  variation  and  selection  that  consti- 
tutes the  mode  of  progress  for  physiological  heredity  in  gen- 
eral. Nevertheless,  it  has  been  extensively  modified,  espe- 
cially in  connection  with  the  rise  of  infancy,  which  has  upset 
considerably  the  tendency  for  the  racial  order  of  development 
to  appear  in  the  individual.  On  the  other  hand,  cultural 
recapitulation  is  a  matter  of  social  heredity,  and  in  so  far  as 
it  is  not  the  inevitable  order  of  apperceiving  experience  can 
be  readily  modified  as  chance  or  reason  may  suggest. 

SECTION  21.    Psycho-physiological    recapitulation    and   educa- 

tion 

The  notion  of  psycho-physiological  recapitulation  has  been  TWO  forms  of 
applied  to  education  in  two  general  forms.     It  has  been  held 


to  furnish  the  clew  to  the  order  in  which  are  developed  either  psycho- 

the  faculties  of  the  mind,  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  instincts  of  cai  recapit- 

the  individual,  on  the  other.     The  general  notion  as  to  the  uiatlo°  to 

0  education 

order  of  development  of  the  faculties  was  not,  however,  origi- 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  the 
notion  of 
develop- 
ment ac- 
cording to 
the  fac- 
ulties 


Combination 
of  this 
view  with 
that  of 
recapitula- 
tion 


nally  an  outcome  of  the  theory  that  we  are  considering.  It 
antedated  that  theory,  and,  in  consequence,  has  no  necessary 
connection  therewith.  Nevertheless,  when  the  thought  of 
recapitulation  became  prominent,  the  older  view  based  on 
the  so-called  "faculty"  theory  of  the  mind  was  recognized  as 
in  harmony  with  it.  According  to  this  view,  all  mental  de- 
velopment is  thought  to  begin  in  sense  observation,  to  be  con- 
tinued in  imagination  and  memory,  and  to  conclude  in  reason 
and  judgment.  The  theory  became  emphasized  shortly  after 
the  Renaissance,  when  science  began  to  be  differentiated  from 
metaphysics,  and  philosophy  came  to  be  approached  from  the 
point  of  view  of  psychology.  As  a  result  of  the  one  move- 
ment, it  was  recognized  that  the  purely  speculative  methods 
of  the  schoolmen  should  give  place  to  methods  founded  on  ob- 
servation. Observation  becomes,  therefore,  the  first  step  in 
scientific  progress.  The  second,  or  psychological,  movement 
emphasized  the  dependence  of  the  content  of  the  mind  upon 
the  material  furnished  by  the  senses.  There  resulted  in  edu- 
cation a  realistic  tendency,  the  essential  features  of  which  were 
that  it  was  thought  that  the  subject  matter  of  education  should 
consist  largely  of  things  and  less  of  words,  and  that  the  initial 
step  in  method  should  be  an  appeal  to  the  senses. 

No  one  can  doubt  the  essential  truth  of  these  educational 
principles.  It  will  readily  be  seen  that  they  can  be  made  part 
of  a  theory  of  recapitulation  based  on  the  analysis  of  mental 
activity  into  faculties.  The  development  of  the  theory  ren- 
dered inevitable  this  application,  and  we  find  it  made  by  many 
writers  of  the  early  nineteenth  century.  A  typical  statement 
is  that  found  in  Rosenkranz's  Philosophy  of  Education. 
According  to  this  writer  the  presentation  of  any  subject  may 
be  according  to  the  logical  order  of  its  subject  matter,  or  to 
the  psychological  order  of  the  development  of  the  mental 
powers.  From  the  latter  point  of  view,  Rosenkranz  divides 


Recap  it u  lation  1 7 1 

the  life  of  the  child  into  an  intuitive,  an  imaginative,  and  a  Application 
logical  epoch.     During  the  first  of  these  periods  the  appeal      view  "to 
should  be  to  the  senses.    Later,  imagination  and  memory  are      education 
called  into  play,  and  the  entire  movement  should  culminate 
in  stirring  up  the  logical  processes. 

In  a  general  way,  the  view  thus  indicated  is  true  enough,  and  criticism  of 
practical  as  applied  to  teaching.  It  needs,  however,  to  be  catbnPP 
subjected  to  an  amendment.  It  involves  the  assumption 
that  the  faculties  are  distinct  from  each  other,  and  that  they 
develop  independently.  The  child,  it  is  assumed,  first  ob- 
serves without  remembering  or  imagining  to  any  great  extent. 
He  thus  develops  a  power  of  observation  that  may  be  used  in 
any  field  without  reference  to  subject  matter.  Later  other 
powers  appear,  and  as  soon  as  one  emerges  a  new  form  of 
instruction  becomes  possible.  It  is  absurd  to  reason  with  a 
child  who  has  not  yet  attained  to  the  logical  period,  or  to  ex- 
pect him  to  remember  and  imagine  while  he  is  still  in  the  in- 
tuitive age.  Moreover,  when  once  children  have  reached  the 
rational  age,  it  is  supposed  that  they  will  be  logical  on  any  sub- 
ject. All  these  assumptions  are  faulty.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
a  child  usually  is  in  the  intuitive  epoch  in  respect  to  some  sub- 
jects and  in  the  logical  one  as  regards  others.  The  analysis 
of  the  mental  processes  does  not,  we  now  realize,  mean  the 
discovery  of  independent  faculties,  but  rather  the  revelation 
of  the  forms  through  which  any  given  content  must  pass  as 
the  mind  reflects  upon  it  and  utilizes  it  in  new  conditions.  As 
a  guide  to  the  method  by  which  new  material  must  be  pre- 
sented, the  idea  of  a  psychological  order  of  development  is  of 
great  value.  But  as  a  clew  to  the  way  in  which  a  subject  must 
be  taught  to  a  child  of  certain  age,  no  matter  what  his  previous 
experience  with  that  material  may  have  been,  it  is,  to  say  the 
least,  to  be  used  with  caution.  Common  sense,  indeed,  tells 
us  that  we  cannot  expect  from  young  children  certain  compli- 


172  Principles  of  Education 

cated  pieces  of  reasoning,  based  on  comprehensive  experience 
and  a  large  number  of  well-mastered  concepts.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  astonishing  what  seemingly  impossible  feats  such  children 
will  perform,  provided  the  ground  is  properly  prepared. 
Mathematical  analysis  impossible  to  untrained  though  intel- 
ligent adults  can  be  carried  on  by  children  in  the  primary 
grades. 

The  faculty  theory  is  so  intimately  connected  with  that  of 
formal  discipline  that  applications  of  the  former  conception  are 
likely  to  involve  the  latter  one  as  well.  Since  the  notion  of 
formal  discipline  will  be  discussed  in  a  separate  chapter,1  we 
may  here  omit  to  consider  it.  As  concerns  the  main  issue, 
that  of  recapitulation,  we  may  say  that  in  so  far  as  the  epochs 
distinguished  represent  a  necessary  order  in  treating  a  subject 
matter,  they  will  be  illustrated  in  the  learning  of  that  subject 
matter  either  by  the  race  or  by  the  child.  However,  so  far 
as  the  apperceiving  mind  is  concerned,  an  intuitive  epoch  for 
one  subject  may  be  contemporaneous  with  a  logical  epoch  for 
another. 

Recapituia-         A  more  original  and  characteristic  application  of  the  idea 

deveiop-the   °^  Psycn°-physiological  recapitulation  is  found  when  we  apply 

ment  of      it  to  the  order  of  development  of  the  instincts.     All  education 

stincts         must  address  itself  to  these,  because  all  learning  springs  from 

activity  in  the  endeavor  to  satisfy  instincts  in  situations  with 

The  theory      which  our  instinctive  or  habitual  reactions  fail  to  cope.     Until 

to  the  order  certain  instincts  appear,  the  child  would  have  no  motive  for 

^b-ert?     accluiring  tne  experience  that  naturally  clusters  about  them. 

should  be    The  teacher,  could,  therefore  postpone  instruction  along  these 

lines  until  the  favorable  period.     Hence,  if  recapitulation  holds 

of  the  instincts,  the  teacher  will  get  valuable  information  from 

a  study  of  the  racial  history.     Thus  he  will  be  able  to  discover 

the  kind  of  material  that  will  be  likely  successively  to  interest 

1  Compare  Ch.  X. 


Recap  itu  la t 'ion  173 

the  child,  and,  since  the  order  of  apperception  is  the  order  of 
interest,  he  will  be  able  to  present  the  content  of  culture  in  the 
form  most  favorable  to  its  ready  assimilation.  Moreover,  if 
complete  cultural  recapitulation  is  regarded  as  in  great  part 
unnecessary,  at  any  rate  the  instincts  that  should  be  developed 
may,  by  consulting  the  order  of  the  evolution  of  the  culture 
materials  relating  to  them,  be  appealed  to  in  the  proper  se- 
quence and  with  appropriate  subject  matter. 

The  idea  that  instincts  are  transitory,  and  that  there  is  a 
favorable  time  for  appealing  to  each,  is  well  brought  out  by 
Professor  James. 

"In  all  pedagogy  the  great  thing  is  to  strike  the  iron  while  James  on 
hot,  and  to  seize  the  wave  of  each  pupil's  interest  before  the      seeing  the 
ebb  has  come,  so  that  knowledge  may  be  got  and  a  habit  of      mo^ent" 
skill  acquired  —  a  headway  of  interest,  in  short,  secured  on      in  educa- 
which  afterward  the  individual  may  float.     There  is  a  happy      tion 
moment  for  fixing  skill  in  drawing,  for  making  boys  collectors 
in  natural  history,   and  presently  dissectors  and  botanists ; 
then  for  initiating  them  into  the  harmonies  of  mechanics  and 
the   wonders   of   physical   and    chemical   law.     Later,    intro- 
spective psychology  and  the  metaphysical  and  religious  mys- 
teries take  their  turn ;    and  last  of  all,  the  drama  of  human 
affairs  and  worldly  wisdom  in  the  widest  sense  of  the  term."  * 

It  is  evident  that  the  view  here  expressed  does  not  involve 
the  notion  that  the  instincts  that  are  transitory  in  the  indi- 
vidual recur  in  the  order  of  their  appearance  in  race  history. 
The  illustrations  are,  indeed,  by  no  means  calculated  to  jus- 
tify such  a  view,  except  in  a  very  general  way.  We  may  then 
conclude  that  the  idea  of  recapitulation  finds  its  value  in 
merely  suggesting  an  appropriate  order  of  appealing  to  the 
instincts  and  of  presenting  the  culture  materials,  but  that 
the  racial  order  must  be  verified  in  the  development  of  the 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  p.  401. 


174  Principles  of  Education 

individual  before  it  can  be  regarded  as  an  accredited  guide  for 
educational  practice. 

The  theory         The  educational  application  of  the  idea  of  recapitulation 
de  according  to   the  instincts    becomes  a  more    thoroughgoing 


tereststhat  affair  with  those  who  see  in  the  development  of  these  instincts, 
cultivated  not  merely  an  agency  of  education  in  its  endeavor  to  bring 
about  efficiency,  but  a  goal  at  which  education  should  aim 
without  regard  to  the  specific  utility  of  the  result.  Thinkers 
of  this  sort  believe  that  all  instincts  should  be  cultivated  be- 
cause they  represent  the  order  of  nature  in  child  growth,  and 
because  through  their  development  the  child  realizes  his  na- 
ture. On  this  view  many  instincts,  such  as  those  associated 
with  fighting  and  fearing,  which  education  ordinarily  neglects 
or  represses,  should  be  fed  and  given  their  fling.  The  con- 
ception of  recapitulation  helps  us  to  become  aware  of  this 
neglect  in  child  culture,  and  the  search  of  racial  culture  com- 
bines with  a  more  scientific  child  psychology  to  reveal  many 
interests  that  a  supposedly  imperfect  educational  system  has 
suffered  to  atrophy  in  the  child. 

This  positive  culture  of  all  the  stages  and  instincts  in  racial 
history  that  incipiently  appear  in  the  development  of  the 
child  is  advocated  by  President  Hall,  not  merely  as  a  means 
of  self-realization,  but  also  as  a  measure  of  the  wisest  utility. 
He  says  :  — 

Hail  on  ai-          "Rousseau  would  leave  prepubescent  years  to  nature  and  to 
lowing  the  these  primal  hereditary  impulsions  and  allow  the  hereditary 

instincts         j.      -j.        f  Ai'/TMi.        i  -!->•    i       •      i  11 

"their  ttaits  of  savagery  their  fling  till  twelve.  Biological  psychology 
fling"  finds  many  and  cogent  reasons  to  confirm  this  view,  if  only  the 
proper  environment  could  be  provided.  The  child  revels  in 
savagery,  and  if  its  tribal,  predatory,  hunting,  fishing,  fighting, 
roving,  idle,  playing  proclivities  could  be  indulged  in  the  coun- 
try, and  under  conditions  that  now,  alas  !  seem  hopelessly 
ideal,  they  could  conceivably  be  so  organized  and  directed  as 
to  be  far  more  truly  humanistic  and  liberal  than  all  that  the 


Recap  itu  la  tion  175 

best  modern  school  can  provide.  Rudimentary  organs  of  the 
soul  now  suppressed,  perverted,  or  delayed,  to  crop  out  in 
menacing  forms  later,  would  be  developed  in  their  season  so 
that  we  should  be  immune  from  them  in  maturer  years,  on  the 
principle  of  the  Aristotelian  Catharsis  for  which  I  have  tried 
to  suggest  a  far  broader  application  than  the  Stagirite  could 
see  in  his  day. 

"These  nativistic  and  more  or  less  feral  instincts  can  and 
should  be  fed  and  formed.  The  deep  and  strong  cravings  of 
the  individual  to  revive  the  ancestral  experiences  and  occu- 
pations of  the  race  can  and  must  be  met,  at  least  in  a  second- 
hand and  vicarious  way,  by  tales  of  the  heroic  virtues  the  child 
can  appreciate,  and  these  proxy  experiences  should  make  up 
by  variety  and  extent  what  they  lack  in  intensity.  The  teacher 
art  should  so  vivify  all  that  the  resources  of  literature,  tradi- 
tion, history  can  supply  which  represents  the  crude  and  rank 
virtues  of  the  world's  childhood,  that  with  his  almost  visual 
imagination  reenforced  by  psychonomic  recapitulatory  im- 
pulses the  child  can  enter  upon  his  full  heritage,  live  out  each 
stage  of  his  life  to  the  fullest,  and  realize  in  himself  all  its  mani- 
fest tendencies.  Echoes  out  of  the  vaster  richer  life  of  the 
remote  past  they  must  remain,  but  just  these  are  the  mur- 
murings  of  the  only  nurse  that  can  save  from  the  omnipresent 
dangers  of  precocity.  Thus  we  not  only  rescue  from  the 
danger  of  loss,  but  utilize  for  further  psychic  growth,  the  results 
of  the  higher  heredity,  which  are  the  most  precious  and  poten- 
tial things  on  earth."  x 

This  passage  gives  us  an  original  and  brilliant  defense  of  Three  reasons 
the  utility  of  encouraging  all  the  instincts  that  the  child's     j^f^' 
growth  tends  to  recapitulate.     It  will  be  noticed  that  three     capituia- 
reasons  are  offered  for  this  policy.     In  the  first  place,  it  is  de- 
clared that  if  these  instincts  are  not  cultivated  at  the  time  when 
they  naturally  are  strongest,  their  development  is  retarded, 
and  they  are  liable  to  appear  later  in  perverted  -forms.     Sec- 
ondly, the  point  is  made  that  a  child  who  is  not  allowed  to 

1  Adolescence,  Preface,  pp.  x  and  xi. 


176  Principles  of  Education 

revel  in  these  instinctive  occupations  runs  the  risk  of  arrested 
development  from  too  early  precocity.  Finally,  by  means  of 
the  rich  fund  of  material  thus  developed,  President  Hall  thinks 
the  life  of  the  man  is  rendered  many-sided,  significant,  and 
resourceful.  The  fund  of  material  for  variation,  both  in  the 
individual  and  in  the  race,  is  enormously  expanded.  He 
would  have  this  education  of  the  primitive  instincts  given  in 
the  period  from  five  to  eight  or  nine.  Thereafter,  in  his  opin- 
ion, a  more  coercive  school  training  should  be  carried  on, 
which  should  follow  to  a  great  extent  the  methods  of  "  old- 
fashioned"  schoolmasters. 

(i)  criticism  The  conception  thus  advanced  is  exceedingly  suggestive. 
°tkarsis *"  Presented  with  the  enthusiasm  and  with  the  richness  of  illus- 
theory  tration  that  characterizes  the  author,  it  can  prove  convincing. 
It  is,  however,  not  to  be  entertained  without  important  res- 
ervations. The  view  that  all  instincts  that  are  not  encour- 
aged at  the  time  when  they  are  at  floodtide  are  apt  to  mani- 
fest themselves  later  in  perverted  forms  is  one  that  masses 
together  much  truth  and  many  false  implications.  There  is 
probably  no  instinct  to  which  it  applies  so  directly  as  it  does 
*  to  the  sexual  one,  —  an  instinct,  by  the  way,  that  plays  the 
'  Hamlet  role  in  President  Hall's  discussions.  Now  while  there 
can  be  little  doubt  as  to  the  fact  that  the  control  of  this  in- 
stinct demanded  by  civilization  leads  to  many  perversions,  it 
is  certainly  true  that  the  consequences  of  feeding  the  instinct, 
either  by  actual  indulgence  or  vicariously  by  stimulating  the 
fancy,  are  far  more  dangerous  both  to  the  individual  and  to 
society  than  the  resolute  effort  to  bring  it  under  control  by 
the  methods  of  antagonizing  heredity  that  have  been  already 
discussed.1  Especially  do  we  find  effective  the  substitution  of 
ideal  or  romantic  love.  The  tendency  of  advancing  civiliza- 
tion, while  it  may  favor  a  certain  frankness  in  such  matters, 

1  Compare  §  u. 


Recapitulation  177 

and  may  also  avoid  puritanical  or  monastic  extremes,  is  ap- 
parently constantly  in  the  direction  of  more  careful  and  effec- 
tive control.  When  we  consider  such  savage  tendencies  as  the 
predatory,  the  hunting,  the  fighting,  the  roving,  the  idle  pro- 
clivity, one  wonders  just  what  serious  perversions  are  apt  to 
result  from  the  failure  properly  to  indulge  them  in  childhood. 
The  idea  of  a  catharsis  of  these  instincts,  while  intensely  inter- 
esting as  a  general  notion,  does  not  seem  to  be  so  vitally  im- 
portant when  we  consider  the  dangers  against  which  this  sort 
of  vaccination  is  aimed.  Indeed,  perversion,  or,  at  any  rate,  Perversion 
degeneration,  is  far  more  likely  to  come  from  an  over-  indulgence  * 


in  these  tendencies,  which  so  intensifies  the  interest  in  the  life 
they  involve  that  the  more  humane,  civilized,  and  ethical  ten- 
dencies have  a  difficult  battle  to  displace  them.  Moreover,  it 
would  seem  that  the  infancy,  or  the  immaturity,  of  these  in- 
stincts would  find  its  value  in  that  it  enables  us  to  suppress 
or  modify  such  relics  of  a  mode  of  life  no  longer  necessary  or 
desirable. 

If  a  given  instinct  is  to  play  an  important  part  in  the  adult  Conditions 
life  of  the  individual,  neglect  of  it  during  the  period  of  child- 


n 

hood  when  it  becomes  prominent  will  leave  the  individual  so  stincts 
untrained  that  his  later  activities  in  reference  to  it  may  well  encouraged 
seem  like  perversions.  To  make  a  hunter,  a  tennis  player,  or 
one  with  a  graceful  presence  and  readiness  of  resource  in  society, 
the  hunting,  tennis  playing,  and  social  tendencies  of  the  youth 
must  be  cultivated.  One  who  late  in  life  takes  up  for  the  first 
time  sports  involving  physical  skill,  or  attempts  to  play  a 
role  in  fashionable  society  after  a  youth  and  early  manhood 
spent  in  entirely  different  scenes,  finds  readjustment  exceed- 
ingly difficult,  if  not  impossible.  But  awkwardness  is  not  in  it- 
self perversion,  although  it  makes  one  dissatisfied,  and  may  lead 
to  morbidness.  The  adult  who  suddenly  develops  an  interest 
in  activities  normal  to  childhood,  but  neglected  then,  is  bound 


1 78  Principles  of  Education 

to  appear  ridiculous  to  the  onlooker,  because  his  interest  is 
childish  and  naive,  rather  than  experienced  and  sophisticated. 
However,  for  a  man  to  play  a  child's  part  argues  a  lack  of  bal- 
ance or  of  training,  but  not,  as  a  rule,  a  perversion. 

The  important  consideration  is,  after  all,  the  positive  one. 
Instincts  should  be  cultivated  if  they  contribute  to  the  resources 
of  life.  If  they  do  not  do  this,  they  should  not  be  trained  in 
childhood  merely  for  fear  that  otherwise  peculiarities  of  nature 
or  of  circumstances  may  lead  them  to  appear  in  ridiculous 
forms  in  adults.  There  is  very  little  likelihood  that  they  will 
crop  out  in  adult  life  unless  they  form  the  basis  of  a  very  im- 
portant phase  of  the  life  of  the  normal  man  or  woman.  When 
such  is  the  case,  the  endeavor  on  the  part  of  one  who  has  hith- 
erto neglected  the  aspect  of  life  that  they  condition  again  to 
resume  his  heritage  will  doubtless  seem  to  the  onlooker  absurd 
or  pitiable. 

(2)  criticism       The  notion  that  to  neglect  the  cultivation  of  the  instincts 
theor"5  of     °^  a  cni^  w^  ^ea^  to  too  early  maturity  and,  in  consequence, 
"arrested     to  arrested  development,  or  improper  maturation,  is  also  one 
ment"P~      that  st^rs  enthusiasm  as  a  striking  generalization  more  easily 
than  it  compels  assent  when  it  is  subjected  to  the  test  of  facts. 
Causes  of  this  It  is  both  true  and  trite  that  when  children  are  pushed  too 
rapidly  along  the  lines  of  old-fashioned  school  discipline,  they 
run  the  risk  of  a  loss  of  health  which  may  involve  arrested 
development.     It  is  also  true  that  when  children  are  driven 
to  do  work  in  which  they  have  as  yet  no  instinctive  interest, 
or  for  undertaking  which  they  have  no  adequate  basis  of  expe- 
rience, they  are  likely  to  acquire  a  distaste  for  it  which  may 
seriously  impair   their  chance  of   later  success  in   this  field. 
Moreover,  many  facts  conspire  to  show  that  when  children 
are  compelled  to  get  their  living  at  an  early  age,  and  so  to  ac- 
quire what  corresponds  to  an  adult  adjustment  at  a  time  when 
they  do  not  possess  an  adult's  experience  or  mental  and  physi- 


Recap  itu  la  lion  179 

cal  vigor,  there  is  danger  that  they  may  never  get  beyond  the 
habits  thus  prematurely  ingrained.  The  child  bootblack  be- 
comes the  man  bootblack.  Here  habit  and  specialization  may 
constitute  in  a  peculiar  degree  a  bar  to  progress,  because  it 
prevents  the  acquisition  of  a  fund  of  experience  and  of  apti- 
tudes by  which  readjustment  is  rendered  possible  or  easy. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  here  what  may  be  called  the  pri-  Conflict  pi 
mary  function  of  infancy  comes  a  little  in  conflict  with  a  sec-  mary'and 
ondary  one.  The  primary  function  of  infancy  is  not  so  much 
to  ward  off  maturity  as  it  is  to  offer  the  child  a  chance  to 
develop  the  habits  best  suited  to  its  environment  without  the 
interference  of  hereditary  characteristics  ill-adapted  to  the  pres- 
ent conditions.  But  if  the  child  acquires  a  mature  adjustment 
too  early,  it  will  encounter,  when  readjustment  becomes  desir- 
able, the  same  difficulties  that  would  have  existed  had  it  in- 
herited acquired  characters.  Early  maturity,  whether  in 
individuals  or  races,  usually  goes  with  a  low  average  intelligence 
and  set  modes  of  life.  This,  if  not  quite  so  true  of  an  early 
maturity  that  results  from  training  as  it  is  of  one  that  is  hered- 
itary, holds,  nevertheless,  of  both.  The  bread-winning  occu- 
pations of  which  a  child  is  capable  are  of  necessity  far  more 
limited  and  in  a  sense  more  specialized  than  those  that  an  adult 
can  carry  on.  Early  specialization  does  not  promote  later 
progress  except  along  the  lines  of  the  specialty.  Such  early 
maturity  is  a  danger,  because  it  prevents  the  child  from  ac- 
quiring his  proper  equipment  of  experience.  It  is  bad  because 
of  what  it  crowds  out.  It  is  bad  because  it  means  an  adjust- 
ment that  for  the  time  contents,  and  this  contentment  by  con- 
tinuing is  apt  to  deprive  the  individual  of  any  incentive  for 
betterment,  until  the  age  of  readjustment  is  past.  In  man 
the  infancy,  that  exists  primarily  that  each  generation  may 
have  a  freedom  to  obtain  the  adjustment  peculiar  to  its  con- 
ditions of  life,  comes  to  have  the  secondary  function  of  afford- 


i8o 


Principles  of  Education 


Complete 
recapitula- 
tion not 
necessary 
to  prevent 
arrested 
develop- 
ment 


(3)  Criticism 
of  the 
theory  of 
provision 
for  varia- 
tion 


ing  an  opportunity  for  acquiring,  not  so  much  specific  mature 
adjustments,  as  rather  a  resourceful  action  system  of  habits 
and  experience  that  shall  constitute  the  capital  for  all  later 
readjustment. 

We  may  then  agree  with  President  Hall  that  child  education 
should  avoid  premature  specialization;  that  is,  specializa- 
tion that  is  likely  to  be  a  bar  to  readjustment  or  to  the  accu- 
mulation of  resources  for  readjustment.  We  can  further  sub- 
scribe to  the  view  that  it  is  in  deep  plowing  of  the  soil  of  the 
instincts  that  we  get  the  best  preparation  for  broad  interests 
and  resourceful  intelligence  in  the  emergencies  of  life.  But 
this  does  not  require  that  education  should  encourage  tenden- 
cies that  the  race  has  outlived,  or  interests  that  play  no  part 
in  adult  life.  Many  children  love  to  tease  and  bully.  This 
is  a  relic  of  the  primitive  instinct  of  leadership,  —  an  instinct 
still  very  useful,  but  not  to  be  cultivated  by  encouraging  the 
cruder  acts  to  which  it  prompts.  The  hunting  instinct  will 
very  likely  before  many  centuries  cease  to  serve  any  useful 
educational  purpose.  Fighting  and  the  predatory  instinct 
are  not  to  be  indulged  simply  because  such  a  course  may  pre- 
vent premature  maturation. 

When  we  get  away  from  the  negations  of  the  idea  that  we 
should  cultivate  the  instincts  for  the  sake  of  catharsis  or  of 
avoiding  prematuration,  and  enter  the  region  of  affirmations, 
we  reach  President  Hall's  third  point.  It  is,  he  thinks,  by 
cultivating  the  instincts  that  material  for  variation,  both  in 
the  child  and  in  the  race,  is  to  be  developed.  The  idea  that 
the  race  is  to  be  improved  in  this  manner  begs  the  question 
in  favor  of  the  inheritance  of  acquired  characters,  but  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  an  education  that  aims  to  equip  the 
individual  with  power  of  readjustment  must  select  those  inter- 
ests that  are  organic  in  the  social  life  of  to-day,  and  cultivate 
them  in  a  free  and  comprehensive  way.  This  does  not  mean, 


Recapitu  lation  1 8 1 

however,  that  much  that  children  may  or  must  like  is  not  to 
be  kept  in  innocuous  slumber.  Education  everywhere  vali- 
dates its  work  by  reference  rather  to  the  needs  of  life  to-day 
than  to  the  inherited  tendencies  of  the  child.  The  cultivation 
of  the  instincts,  even  when  it  is  providing  for  readjustment, 
should  be  a  selective  rather  than  a  promiscuous  process. 
Social  heredity  exists  to  supplement,  direct,  modify,  or  even  to 
suppress  physiological  heredity,  and  not  merely  to  promote 
the  course  of  nature. 

In  summary,  we  may  note  that  the  conception  of  psycho-  Summary 
physiological  recapitulation  has  been  applied  to  education  in 
two  forms:  first,  as  indicating  the  order  of  development  of 
the  faculties,  which  it  is  supposed  to  be  the  business  of  edu- 
cation to  cultivate,  and  second,  as  pointing  out  the  time  of 
appearance  of  the  instincts,  to  which  education  must  appeal, 
if  it  is  not  to  lack  motive  and  so  fail  of  effect.  The  idea  that 
the  faculties  develop  in  a  certain  order  appeared  in  education 
before  the  idea  of  recapitulation,  but  when  the  latter  notion 
was  advanced,  it  was  used  to  support  the  former.  According 
to  the  resulting  view  the  age  of  the  child  will  determine  the 
method  by  which  any  subject  should  be  presented  to  him. 
This  notion  is  faulty  because  a  faculty  means  the  power  of 
dealing  with  specific  material  in  a  certain  way,  —  a  power 
which  depends  quite  as  much  upon  the  child's  previous  expe- 
rience and  training  in  the  given  subject  matter  as  it  does  upon 
his  age.  Thus  children  may  be  in  the  intuitive  epoch  in  regard 
to  some  subjects,  and  in  the  logical  one  in  respect  to  others. 
Little  children  can  reason  within  limits,  and  older  ones  need 
to  have  their  powers  of  observation  appealed  to.  In  fact, 
observation,  memory,  and  reason  are  intimately  interrelated, 
and  it  would  be  true  to  say  that  reason  helps  memory  and  power 
to  observe  quite  as  much  as  it  is  helped  by  them.  The  treat- 
ment of  any  topic  will,  in  general,  involve  the  exercise  of  the 


1 82  Principles  of  Education 

faculties  in  the  order  of  recapitulation,  but  further  than  this 
the  conception  in  question  does  not  apply. 

The  study  of  racial  history  proves  more  useful  to  the  teacher 
in  revealing  the  instincts  to  which  he  must  appeal  and  the  or- 
der of  their  appearance.  It  shows  him  many  useful  instincts 
which  he  might  otherwise  have  neglected,  puts  him  on  the 
alert  for  their  appearance  at  certain  times,  and  suggests  cul- 
ture material  that  can  be  utilized  in  stimulating  them.  It 
helps  to  reveal  the  time  at  which  certain  valuable  subjects 
can  best  be  presented.  When,  however,  it  is  urged  that  all 
the  racial  instincts  that  tend  to  reappear  in  the  development 
of  the  child  should  be  cultivated,  our  fundamental  conception 
that  in  man  physiological  heredity  is  largely  of  such  a  character 
as  not  to  determine  the  specific  lines  of  education,  but  rather 
to  offer  the  materials  from  which  education  can  select  the 
definite  adjustments  needed  at  the  time,  should  be  applied. 
Accordingly,  we  may  conclude  that  many  instincts  should  be 
neglected  or  suppressed.  However,  the  life  of  man  to-day  is 
so  full  of  the  need  for  readjustment  that  the  education  of  the 
child  becomes  of  necessity  more  an  accumulation  of  resources 
for  this  purpose  and  less  the  acquisition  of  specific  adjustments. 
It  follows  that  education  must  exercise  great  care  lest  instinc- 
tive tendencies  and  culture  material  that  may  prove  useful 
are  not  suppressed  or  neglected  because  that  use  cannot  be 
definitely  foreseen.  In  general,  a  broad  cultivation  of  what 
nature  has  given  the  child  for  the  sake  of  readjustment  is  a 
good  preparation  to  make  an  adaptable  man.  Nevertheless, 
the  problem  of  selection  cannot  be  dodged  by  the  teacher,  nor 
the  issue  of  progress  settled  by  an  appeal  to  the  blind  forces 
that  come  up  to  us  out  of  the  past. 


Recapitulation  183 


SECTION  22.    Cultural  recapitulation 

That  our  education  carries  us  through  stages  that  have  Culture  as  re- 
constituted epochs  in  the  history  of  social  progress  is  a  much  ^ltula" 
more  evident  fact  than  that  of  biological  evolution.  As  soon 
as  one  reflects  even  superficially  on  the  process  of  education, 
he  is  impressed  with  the  fact  that  it  consists  very  largely  in 
bringing  the  child  up  to  the  standard  adjustment  of  the  adult. 
When  we  add  to  the  consciousness  of  this  fact  the  historical 
knowledge  that  enables  one  to  understand  that  human  history 
has  been  one  of  progress  rather  than  of  degeneration,  it  is  in- 
evitable that  the  parallel  between  the  educational  development 
of  the  child  and  the  gradual  evolution  of  higher  adjustments 
and  standards  in  the  race  should  be  quickly  recognized. 

Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the  general  notions  of 
Lessing  on  what  he  called  The  Education  of  the  Human  Race. 
These  ideas  were  further  developed  by  Herder  in  his  Ideas  for 
a  Philosophy  of  History.  We  find  them  receiving  educational 
application  by  Herbart  in  the  following  words,  which  consti- 
tute the  suggestion  of  the  culture-epoch  theory,  later  elaborated 
by  Ziller:  — 

"It  would  be  somewhat  difficult  to  state  the  starting  point  Herbart  on 
of  progressive  sympathy  and  to  justify  the  statement.     Closer       *?  c"lture 
consideration  shows  that  this  point  cannot  lie  in  the  actual      the  child  ° 
present.     The  child's  sphere  is  too  narrow,  and  traversed  too 
soon,  the  adult's  sphere  among  cultivated  people  too  high  and 
too  much  determined  by  relationships  which  we  would  not 
explain  to  the  little  boy  if  we  could.     But  the  true  successions 
of  history  end  in  the  present,  and  in  the  beginnings  of  our 
culture  among  the  Greeks  an  illuminated  spot  for  the  whole 
of  posterity  is  formed  by  the  classical  representations  of  an 
ideal  boyhood  in  the  Homeric  poems."  1 

1  ^Esthetic  Revelation  of  the  World  (Felkin's  translation). 


1 84 


Principles  of  Education 


Ziller  on 
culture 
epochs 
and   con- 
centration 


The  order  of 
cultural 
history  as 
the  order 
of  apper- 
ception 


This  notion  that  we  must  go  to  simpler  social  conditions 
and,  indeed,  to  those  that  constitute  the  beginnings  of  culture 
to  find  the  sort  of  experience  with  which  the  education  of  the 
child's  sympathies  should  begin  is  elaborated  by  Ziller  into  the 
culture-epoch  theory.  Not  only  does  Ziller  suppose  that  there 
is  a  series  of  stages  in  racial  history  that  furnishes  the  materials 
which  are  successively  most  appropriate  for  the  culture  of  the 
child's  social  nature,  but  by  the  use  of  the  theory  of  concentra- 
tion he  was  able  to  outline  a  scheme  for  the  organization  of 
the  study  of  physical  nature  on  a  similar  basis.  Assuming 
with  Herbart  that  moral  character  is  the  aim  in  education, 
and  that  this  expresses  itself  in  the  social  relations  of  life,  he 
succeeded  in  concentrating  all  the  studies  of  the  school  about 
the  humanities,  and  especially  history.  Mathematics,  natural 
science,  grammar,  and  logic,  according  to  this  scheme,  are 
taken  up  in  order  to  further  the  comprehension  of  the  culture 
of  the  epochs  that  the  sequences  of  history  present. 

It  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  that  with  the  Herbartians 
the  fundamental  justification  of  the  arrangement  of  study 
according  to  the  culture  epochs  lay  in  their  view  that  this  order 
is  that  of  proper  apperception.  The  ideas  and  customs  of  one 
age  constitute  in  their  view  the  natural  introduction  to  those 
of  the  next.  This  is  the  inevitable  order  of  the  development 
of  the  material  of  social  heredity.  It  is  not  a  question  of  suit- 
ing the  instincts  as  they  come  into  activity,  but  rather  of 
logical  arrangement  of  the  content  of  education  so  that  it 
proceeds  properly  from  the  old  to  the  new,  from  the  simple 
to  the  complex,  from  the  near  to  the  remote.  The  order  of 
cultural  history  is  supposed  to  be  the  order  of  apperception. 

If,  then,  any  one  of  the  earlier  phases  of  culture  is  unneces- 
sary as  an  introduction  to  the  life  of  to-day,  it  may  be  omitted 
in  the  education  of  the  child.  We  may  suppose  that  there 
are  many  such  exceptions.  Invoking  our  principle  that  social 


Recap  itu  lation 


185 


heredity  consists  in  great  measure  of  adaptations  to  variable 
and  so  temporary  conditions,  we  may  well  believe  that  any 
resolute  attempt  to  recapitulate  racial  epochs  would  lead  not 
along  a  highway  of  continuous  progress,  but  rather  into  a 
succession  of  blind  alleys.  This  difficulty  becomes  evident 
when  we  study  specifically  the  results  of  Ziller's  plan. 

First  of  all,  this  plan  makes  the  treatment  of  subjects  out- 
side of  history  and  literature  difficult.  To  lead  the  child 
through  the  study  of  the  scientific  conceptions  of  earlier  periods 
in  human  history  is  a  laborious  and  to  a  considerable  extent 
an  unnecessary  task.  The  history  of  science,  as  contrasted 
with  the  study  of  science  itself,  presents  the  curious  and  the 
abandoned  elements  of  culture,  rather  than  those  that  are 
valuable  to-day,  and  while  this  subject  has  a  place,  it  is  rather 
at  the  end  than  at  the  beginning  of  scientific  training.  Again, 
the  attempt  to  teach  science  as  a  means  of  comprehending  past 
culture  means  to  run  the  risk  of  leaving  out  much  that  is  very 
important  for  the  comprehension  of  modern  life  and  the  devel- 
opment of  efficiency.  Finally,  the  endeavor  to  drag  in  all  the 
other  studies  at  the  heels  of  a  study  of  history  involves  an  almost 
unavoidable  awkwardness  of  treatment.  Phases  of  history 
that  have  little  value  from  the  historic  or  humanitarian  point 
of  view  must  be  emphasized  in  order  to  furnish  a  basis  for  study- 
ing indispensable  parts  of  science.  It  seems  impossible  to  pro- 
vide for  concentration  in  any  but  a  most  artificial  way  without 
transcending  the  possibilities  of  the  ordinary  school  in  both 
the  extent  and  the  difficulty  of  the  program  thereby  involved. 

These  objections  to  Ziller's  plan  of  concentration  are,  it  is 
true,  partly  the  result  of  his  notion  of  the  aim  of  education 
rather  than  of  the  culture-epoch  idea  itself.  If  education  aims 
at  moral  character  alone,  and  does  not  expand  this  conception 
so  that  it  becomes  efficiency  in  all  respects,  industrial  as  well 
as  social,  it  is  evident  that  the  humanities  are  far  more  impor- 


The  culture- 
epoch 
theory    in- 
applicable 
to       the 
teaching 
of     science 
and  mathe- 
matics 


Difficulties 
due  to  con- 
centration 
about  the 
humanities 


1  86  Principles  of  Education 

tant  elements  of  culture  than  science.  Indeed,  they  are  the 
proper  core  of  the  curriculum.  But  the  development  of  the 
more  modern  aim  of  preparation  for  complete  living  makes  it 
necessary  that  we  should  lay  great  stress  on  aspects  of  culture 
that  do  not  find  their  sole  aim  in  that  they  contribute  to  social 
tact  or  capacity  for  social  control,  but  instead  function  in  rela- 
tion to  the  arts  and  crafts,  and  to  those  professions  that  involve 
expert  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature.  Constantly  increasing 
emphasis,  especially  in  elementary  education,  on  that  phase  of 
instruction  that  is  least  amenable  to  treatment  on  the  basis  of 
the  principle  of  recapitulation  has  caused  that  idea  to  fall  into 
neglect  as  a  basis  for  the  organization  of  prevailing  courses  of 
study. 

DeGarmo's  To  avoid  the  difficulty  here  involved,  Professor  De  Garmo 
co6rdina°f  ^as  Pr°P°se(l  what  he  calls  a  scheme  of  coordination.1  He 
tion.  Re-  would  have  three  groups  of  closely  interrelated  subjects:  the 
lion  h^the  humanistic,  where  the  ethical  element  is  dominant  and  the 


humanistic  [faa,  of  recapitulation  applies  ;  the  scientific,  where,  of  course, 
the  ethical  element  is  absent  and  the  culture-epoch  idea  has 
little  or  no  place  ;  and  the  economic  studies.  The  function 
of  the  last  is,  he  conceives,  to  connect  the  ideal  results  of  hu- 
manistic study  with  the  instrumentalities  for  realizing  these 
ideals  that  are  revealed  by  a  study  of  nature.  In  such  a  group, 
geography,  or  the  study  of  the  earth  in  its  relation  to  man,  is 
central. 

Dewey's  The  scheme  of  concentration  suggested  by  Professor  Dewey  2 

centra-  attemPts  to  make  the  social  life  of  the  child  the  core  of  the 
tion  about  curriculum.  This  life  gives  rise  to  certain  interests  and  prob- 
life  of  the  lems.  It  is  supposed  that  in  the  endeavor  to  satisfy  the  one 
school.  and  to  settle  the  other  the  child  may  be  led  to  reach  out  into  all 

Its   use    of 

recapitula-    departments  of  knowledge  that  mankind  has  so  far  accumu- 

tion 

1  Herbart  and  the  Herbartians,  Part  III,  Ch.  IV. 

2  The  School  and  Society. 


Recap  itu  la  tion 


lated,  and  to  avail  himself  of  all  the  instrumentalities  for  re- 
search that  have  been  discovered.  On  such  a  scheme,  it  is 
evident  that  the  development  of  the  social  problems  in  the 
society  of  the  school  would  naturally  follow  to  some  extent  the 
history  of  these  problems  in  the  evolution  of  human  society. 
However,  as  the  school  life  is  brought  in  contact  with  modern 
adult  conditions  at  a  variety  of  points,  it  is  evident  that  the 
extent  of  recapitulation  will  be  limited  to  such  issues  as  are 
inevitable,  and  must  be  met  before  the  child  can  appreciate 
and  so  come  face  to  face  with  the  emergencies  of  the  present 
day.  Everywhere  the  ultimate  aim  of  efficiency  must  exert 
its  selective  power,  abbreviating,  modifying,  and  rearranging 
the  problems  that  have  come  up  to  us  out  of  the  past. 

Thus,  even  though  Professor  Dewey's  scheme  of  concentra-  The  cuiture- 
tion  is  one  that  effectively  brings  science  into  unity  with  the 
humanities,  and  also  offers  a  chance  for  recapitulation  to  play 
a  part  in  reference  to  the  central  element  of  the  scheme,  this 
principle  must  of  necessity  be  only  a  mere  skeleton  of  arrange- 
ment, notable  especially  for  the  number  of  exceptions  to  it. 
If  science  balks  at  being  presented  in  the  racial  order,  even  the 
humanities  dodge,  whenever  possible,  the  influence  of  this  prin- 
ciple of  control.  The  conditions  that  demand  a  deviation  from 
the  plan  of  cultural  recapitulation  are  well  stated  by  Lange.1 
He  points  out  the  impossibility  of  recreating  except  in  a  selec- 
tive way  the  cultural  conditions  of  early  peoples.  They  con- 
stitute adult  conditions  difficult  even  for  the  scientifically 
trained  mind  to  comprehend  from  the  point  of  view  of  those 
who  actually  dwelt  in  their  midst.  The  child  can  absorb  and 
sympathize  with  such  phases  of  early  culture  as  fit  in  with  the 
social  conceptions  that  he  is  taking  in  day  by  day  from  his 
modern  environment.  He  sees  antique  civilization  through 
spectacles  that  reveal  only  the  colors  of  the  glasses  themselves, 

1  Apperception  (De  Garmo's  translation),  pp.  110-151. 


epoch 
scheme  not 
literally 
applicable 
even  to  the 
humanities 


1 88  Principles  of  Education 

—colors  derived  from  the  living  conditions  of  to-day.  He 
idealizes  and  glosses  over  the  deeds  of  ancient  men.  Lange 
emphasizes  the  view  that  an  elaborate  subdivision  of  the  course 
of  study  according  to  culture  epochs  is  artificial  and  undesir- 
able, and  the  fact  that  much  that  has  been  prominent  in  the 
history  of  culture  would  be  positively  detrimental  to  the  child. 
In  general  he  says  :  — 

"In  choice  of  matter  from  the  historical  point  of  view  we 
discover  all  that  is  justifiable  in  Ziller's  theory  of  culture 
epochs." 

Summary  In  summary,  we  may  say  that  the  idea  of  cultural  recapitu- 

lation has  been  emphasized  by  the  Herbartians  especially. 
To  them  it  constitutes  the  order  of  apperception  of  the  culture 
material  that  the  child  should  absorb.  By  employing  a  scheme 
of  concentration  the  core  of  which  was  history,  a  subject  easily 
treated  according  to  culture  epochs,  Ziller  succeeded  in  apply- 
ing this  principle  in  a  thoroughgoing  way  to  the  curriculum. 
However,  the  order  of  evolution  of  social  heredity  is  by  no 
means  an  order  that  must  or  should  be  followed  blindly  in 
the  education  of  the  child.  What  is  thus  handed  on  is  trans- 
mitted by  this  agency  in  order  that  it  may  be  modified  when 
need  arises  for  so  doing.  Cultural  recapitulation  is  not  in 
many  respects  the  necessary  order  of  apperception  in  intro- 
ducing present  culture,  and  much  that  it  would  teach  should 
be  left  out  of  education  to-day.  These  difficulties  appear 
especially  when  it  is  applied  to  science,  which  according  to 
Ziller's  scheme  was  subordinated  to  the  humanities.  Professor 
De  Garmo  separates  science  from  the  humanities  and  treats 
the  latter  in  a  measure  by  the  plan  of  recapitulation. 
Professor  Dewey  suggests  the  problems  that  arise  in  the  social 
life  of  the  school  as  the  proper  core  for  a  scheme  of  concentra- 
tion. These  problems  come  up  to  some  extent  in  the  order  of 


Recapitulation  189 

recapitulation,  and  they  lead  into  the  study  of  science  and 
industry  better  than  the  historical  study  of  Ziller's  scheme. 
However,  many  historical  problems  will  not  arise  in  a  school 
society  of  to-day,  and  the  order  of  appearance  of  such  as  do 
will  deviate  widely  from  that  of  their  rise  in  social  evolution. 


CHAPTER  VII 


Learning  as  a 
process  of 
inner    re- 
organiza- 
tion 


Replacement 
of  outer  by 
inner  selec- 
tion 


LEARNING   BY   TRIAL   AND   ERROR 

SECTION  23.    General  notion  of  learning 

THE  general  analysis  of  the  process  of  learning  has  already 
been  given.1  We  have  seen  that  it  is  based  upon  a  resourceful 
action  system,  a  variety  of  wants,  sensitivity  to  lack  of  adjust- 
ment, and  the  power  to  utilize  resources  in  experimentation. 
These  factors  all  have  an  hereditary  basis.  Learning  is,  there- 
fore, characteristically  a  process  going  on  within  the  organism. 
It  is  essentially  a  matter  of  inner  reorganization,  for  which 
environmental  conditions  furnish  the  stimulus.  These  ex- 
ternal forces  do  not  determine  what  shall  be  learned.  They 
merely  insist  that  something  be  learned  that  will  enable  the 
organism  to  deal  with  them  successfully,  —  the  alternative, 
of  course,  being  elimination.  Such  outer  guidance  of  the  learn- 
ing process  is  at  best  merely  passive.  The  positive  effort  and 
the  specific  devices  of  readjustment  all  spring  from  within. 
The  nature  of  these  devices  is  determined  by  the  nature  of  the 
learning  organism,  and  not  at  all  by  the  nature  of  the  environ- 
ment, which  everywhere  confines  itself  to  the  role  of  approving 
or  rejecting  overt  results. 

We  have  seen  that  even  the  selective  function  of  the  environ- 
ment has  been  absorbed  by  the  organism  which  is  able  to  learn. 
The  environment  selects  by  destroying  the  individual  that 
reacts  to  it  wrongly.  The  individual  learns  by  eliminating 
the  faulty  reaction  before  the  environment  has  completed  its 

Compare  §§  9,  17,  18,  19. 
190 


Learning  by   Trial  and  Error  191 

work  of  selection  by  eliminating  the  individual  who  makes 
such  a  reaction.  This  power  of  anticipating  and  forestalling 
the  selective  activity  of  the  environment  is  that  sensitivity 
which  was  mentioned  as  the  third  of  the  factors  involved  in 
power  to  learn.  It  has  further  been  characterized  as  affective 
consciousness.  Disagreeable  affective  consciousness  symbol- 
izes the  destructive  effect  of  persisting  in  present  courses.  It 
is  symbolic,  individual  selection  that  anticipates  and  so  re- 
places natural  selection. 

Learning  means,  then,  the  power  to  profit  by  results.     It  Learning  as  a 
means  the  power  to  readjust  by  making  experimental  reactions, 
and  preserving  the  one  that  proves  most  successful,  or,  to  state      by  results, 
more  literally  the  fact,  the  one  that  is  least  a  failure.     Failure      "M  ^io*n~ 
is,  indeed,  always  symbolic.     Feeling  does  not  permit  the  ulti-      of  results 
mate  result  of  experimentation  to  be  realized,  otherwise  there 
would  be  no  learning  for  the  individual,  but  merely  destruc- 
tion.    Natural    selection  improves  the    race,  but   it  cannot 
teach  the  individual.    However,  even  if  feeling  stops  experi- 
mentation before  it  has  gone  to  the  bitter  end,  we  may  yet 
speak  of  it  as  a  result.     Hence  learning,  which  is  the  power  of 
continuing  to  do  the  things  that  feel  most  satisfactory,  is  a 
process  of  profiting  by  results. 

There  is  one  phase  of  individual  readjustment  that  has  by  Accustoming 
some  been  thought  not  to  be  learning  because  it  seems  to  lack 
this  character.  It  is  .accustoming,  or  acclimation.  Here  ceived  as 
conditions  that  were  at  first  unsatisfactory,  possibly  even 
dangerous  to  life,  come  to  be  endurable  or  even  innocuous, 
apparently  not  because  of  any  positive  reaction  that  wards 
off  the  attack  of  these  conditions,  but  rather  because  of  a  pas- 
sive change  on  the  part  of  the  organism  that  leaves  it  no  longer 
susceptible  to  their  influence.  One  naturally  supposes  that 
the  body  of  the  organism  is  subjected  to  physical  or  chemical 
changes  that  are  the  direct  effect  of  the  stimulus.  The  assump- 


Principles  of  Education 


Method  of 
explaining 
accustom- 
ing as 
learning 


tion  is  that,  if  these  changes  go  on  slowly,  they  do  not  destroy 
life.  Thus  by  a  slow  process  one  may  attain  safely  a  physio- 
logical condition  that  could  not  have  been  reached  swiftly.  An 
organism  may  by  gradual  modification  come  to  endure  safely 
extremes  of  heat  or  of  cold,  of  darkness,  of  rarefaction  or  con- 
densation of  the  air.  If  the  degree  of  salinity  in  the  water  in 
which  they  live  is  increased  by  small  increments,  animals  and 
plants  may  become  inured  to  an  amount  of  change  that,  if 
brought  about  suddenly,  would  destroy  life.  Thus  we  may 
accustom  ourselves  to  eat  substances  at  first  injurious  or  even 
poisonous.  The  system  comes  to  tolerate,  indeed,  to  thrive 
upon  them.  We  become  immune  to  the  toxins  of  various 
diseases.  In  the  psychical  realm,  sights,  sounds,  touches, 
tastes,  smells,  and  even  pains,  at  first  extremely  irritating,  may 
come  to  be  utterly  neglected  or  even  pleasant,  especially  if  the 
process  of  accustoming  be  gradual. 

Mr.  Hobhouse  regards  accustoming  as  a  type  of  readjust- 
ment that  is  clearly  distinct  from  learning. 

"When  after  a  certain  experience  the  organism  adapts  itself 
better  to  a  certain  sort  of  stimulus,  it  has  undoubtedly  been 
modified  by  its  experience,  but  it  has  not  necessarily  learnt 
anything  by  experience  of  results."  1 

It  is  possible,  however,  that  accustoming  may  represent 
genuine  learning.  Professor  Jennings,2  making  use  of  an  idea 
derived  from  Ostwald,  suggests  that  we  may  explain  this  process 
as  one  of  selection  from  among  a  variety  of  chemical  changes 
that  are  stimulated  by  variations  in  temperature,  by  poisons, 
etc.  That  change  survives  which  makes  possible  the  continu- 
ance of  life  by  counteracting  the  dangerous  katabolism  set  up 
by  the  unaccustomed  conditions.  In  that  event,  we  have  an 
illustration  of  learning  by  trial  and  error.  The  variety  of 

1  Mind  in  Evolution,  p.  82.         2  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  p.  346. 


Learning  by   Trial  and  Error 


193 


chemical  changes  may  be  regarded  as  experiments  toward 
readjustment,  and  that  reaction  which  nullifies  the  dangerous 
effect  of  the  stimulus  becomes  chronic,  or  habitual,  the  others 
disappearing  by  inhibition. 

Such  an  analysis,  it  will  be  observed,  requires  that  we  should 
identify  in  actual  cases  of  accustoming  the  presence  not  only 
of  experimental  chemical  reactions,  but  also  of  a  process  of 
symbolic,  individual  selection,  like  that  which  constitutes  the 
function  of  affective  consciousness.  It  is  in  reference  to  the 
last  point  that  the  theory  is  most  apt  to  rouse  incredulity. 
Yet  if  accustoming  does  not  involve  this  sort  of  selection,  it 
cannot  be  called  profiting  by  results  or  learning.  The  indi- 
vidual must  have  the  power  of  inhibiting  the  useless  or  danger- 
ous experiments  and  nourishing  the  successful  one,  or  there 
would  never  be  on  his  part  any  growth  of  ability  to  endure  the 
changed  condition.  Instead  of  becoming  acclimated,  he  would 
be  destroyed. 

It  would  seem  likely  that  accustoming  represents,  not  a   Accustoming 
process  of  experimental  reactions  and  selection  completed  in      redttary6 
the  individual,  but  rather  a  fixed  hereditary  reaction  to  changes      adjustment 
in  the  conditions  of  life  that  are  sufficiently  common  to  make 
an  inherited  mode  of  adjustment  to  them  desirable  or  even 
necessary.     In  that  event,  the  power  to  become  inured  to  a 
certain  environmental   change  would  be,   not   the  power  of 
making  experimental  reactions,  but  rather  that  of  immediately 
setting  up  the  right  one  so  that  in  time  the  situation  will  be 
met.     Natural  selection  would  have  eliminated  all  who  failed 
to  develop  or  to  inherit  the  power  to  make  this  fitting  adjust- 
ment.    The  experiments  would  have  been  individuals,  each 
having  a  tendency  to  respond  somewhat  differently  to  the 
irritating  conditions.     Nature  would  destroy  all  that  failed  to 
react  in  such  a  way  as  to  become  accustomed. 

However  this  may  be,  the  suggested  explanation  of  accustom- 


194  Principles  of  Education 

Summary  ing  as  a  genuine  case  of  learning  may  serve  our  purposes  in 
two  ways:  It  reveals  clearly  the  essential  elements  involved 
in  learning,  and  it  emphasizes  the  fact  that  all  adjustments, 
even  those  of  a  process  apparently  so  mechanical  as  that  of 
acclimation,  are  the  peculiar  internal  reactions  of  the  organism, 
and  not  the  mere  passive  effect  of  external  conditions.  Learn- 
ing, then,  must  involve  first  the  power  to  make  such  character- 
istic internal  reactions,  not  simply  as  adjustments  definitely 
assigned  by  heredity  to  specific  changes  in  the  conditions  of  life, 
but  rather  as  mere  experiments  toward  readjustment ;  and 
second,  the  capacity  to  profit  from  the  results  of  this  experi- 
mentation by  selecting  out  the  successful  reaction,  and  thus 
forestalling  the  destruction  of  the  individual.  Affective  con- 
sciousness, or  something  in  function  analogous  to  it,  must  be 
operative. 

SECTION  24.     The  evolution  of  feeling 

Three  condi-  Affective  consciousness,  or  feeling,  means,  as  we  have  seen, 
agreeable3"  an  mtemal  agency  for  selection.  Through  it  we  substitute 
feeling:  for  natural  selection  symbolic,  individual  selection.  Thus 
learning,  or  profiting  by  results,  becomes  possible  to  the  indi- 
vidual. It  is  true,  in  feeling  we  do  not  have  the  ultimate  out- 
come of  the  experiment  in  reality.  But  we  have  this  ultimate 
result  symbolized  in  terms  that  to  the  inner  life  of  the  individ- 
ual seem  quite  as  important  as  the  destruction  or  the  preserva- 
tion of  life  that  they  signify.  In  the  course  of  its  evolution, 
feeling  may  be  said  to  attach  to  three  main  conditions.  Each 
condition  gives  rise  either  to  agreeable  or  to  disagreeable  feel- 
ing, according  to  circumstances  that  are,  of  course,  directly 

(i)  danger-  opposed  to  each  other.  The  primary  condition  of  disagreeable 
feeling  is  the  existence  in  the  body  of  dangerous  katabolism; 
that  is,  katabolism  that  threatens,  if  continued,  seriously 
to  injure  vitality,  or  indeed,  to  destroy  life.  Agreeable  feeling 


Learning  by   Trial  and  Error 


195 


is  here  a  consequence  of  the  checking  or  reversal  of  such  de- 
structive processes.  The  second  type  of  disagreeable  feeling 
is  that  roused,  not  by  the  actual  existence  of  dangerous  katab- 
olism,  but  rather  by  the  presence  of  impulses  which,  if  carried 
out,  will  more  or  less  remotely  lead  to  such  a  condition.  This 
sort  of  feeling  inhibits  a  wasteful  or  injurious  impulse  before 
the  doing  of  the  harm  has  begun.  Corresponding  to  it  we  have 
the  pleasure  that  sanctions  an  impulse  beneficial  in  its  outcome. 
Feeling,  always  anticipative  of  results,  is  in  gaining  this  second 
condition  enabled  to  predict  them  when  they  are  remote. 
The  third  condition  of  disagreeable  feeling  is  the  presence  of  con- 
flicting impulses  to  action.  The  restoration  of  harmony  hi  the 
inner  life  would  here,  of  course,  be  a  condition  of  agreeable  feeling. 

The  second  type  of  feeling  rises  out  of  the  first  by  the  growth 
of  sensitivity  to  symbolic  conditions,  and  by  the  determina- 
tion of  the  feeling  thus  involved  through  the  feeling  character- 
istic of  the  condition  symbolized  or  anticipated.  Stimuli,  not 
in  themselves  harmful,  are  yet  indicative  of  the  approach  of 
harmful  conditions,  if  these  be  not  warded  off.  Hence,  by 
association,  the  apprehension  of  these  symbolic  conditions 
become  suffused  with  the  quality  of  feeling  that  would  ensue 
were  the  significances  realized.  If  an  organism  requires  a 
certain  amount  of  light  to  carry  on  its  vital  processes,  the 
appearance  of  a  shadow  in  its  locality  will  be  an  irritating  stim- 
ulus, giving  rise  to  feeling  of  the  first  type,  and  thus  rousing  a 
negative  reaction.  But  when  an  individual  upon  which  the 
diminution  in  quantity  of  light  produces  no  vital  effect  reacts  to 
a  shadow,  it  is  doubtless  because  of  what  the  shadow  means 
rather  than  of  what  it  is.  It  means,  for  example,  the  approach 
of  an  enemy,  and  the  organism  simply  transfers  to  the  appre- 
hension of  the  shadow  the  feeling  associated  with  the  injuries 
that  this  hostile  creature  is  liable  to  inflict. 

Professor  Jennings  explains  this  reaction   to  representative 


(2)    premoni- 
tory states 


(3)     conflict- 
ing    im- 
pulses 

Two    factors 
involved  in 
the  devel- 
opment of 
the  second 
from   the 
first  condi- 
tion of  feel- 
ing 


196  Principles  of  Education 

The  law  of  stimuli  as  an  illustration  of  his  law  of  physiological  resolution. 
cai^sduT  States  that  succeed  each  other,  owing  to  the  succession  of  the 
tion  stimuli  that  provoke  them,  may  come  to  pass  readily  into  each 

other,  so  that  the  stimulus  to  the  first  may  without  the  aid  of 
the  other  stimuli  rouse  in  rapid  sequence  each  of  the  following 
states.  So,  too,  a  condition  aroused  by  a  representative 
stimulus  may  come  to  pass  rapidly  into  the  state  that  accom- 
panies the  presence  of  the  condition  that  is  represented.  In 
that  event,  the  representative  condition  is  so  quickly  resolved 
into  one  of  vital  change  that  it  practically  gains  the  intensity 
and  the  quality  of  the  feeling  that  accompanies  such  serious 
disturbances.  The  symbolic  state  A  passes  forthwith  into  a 
dangerous  one  B.  They  practically  fuse,  and  in  effect  A  be- 
comes as  disagreeable  as  B  was  originally. 

its  identity  Professor  Jennings  has  observed  cases  —  for  example,  the 
oHrradk  unicellular  euglena  and  the  sea  urchin  —  where  stimuli  that 
tion  of  feel-  at  first  met  no  response  came  ultimately  to  receive  one  because 
they  represent  other  more  vital  threatening  conditions.  The 
same  general  principle  finds  common  enough  an  illustration 
in  the  transference  *  or  irradiation 2  of  the  feelings  in  human 
experience.  The  uneasiness  that  was  at  first  attached  only 
to  a  certain  state  comes  to  accompany  an  earlier  premonitory 
one.  Feelings  provoked  by  certain  objects  are  thus  in  ways 
quite  unaccountable  to  their  subject  attached  to  other  objects. 
Introspection  does  not  reveal  the  subtle  associations  through 
which  many  experiences  derive  their  interest,  their  power  to 
annoy  or  to  delight. 

Derivation  The  third  type  of  disagreeable  feeling  that  we  have  dis- 
faom  tbe  tinguished  is  connected  with  the  struggle  of  conflicting  im- 
secpnd  con-  pulses  to  action.  It  is  evident  that  this  sort  of  a  condition  is  a 
feeling  normal  outcome  of  disagreeable  feeling.  Such  feeling  stimu- 

1  Compare  Sully,  Psychology;  and  Ribot,  Psychology  of  the  Emotions,  p.  176. 

2  Compare  Ziehen,  Introduction  to  Physiological  Psychology. 


Learning  by   Trial  and  Error 


197 


lates  experimentation.  If  the  experimenter  possesses  a  re- 
sourceful action  system,  it  is  likely  that  many  impulses  will  be 
simultaneously  evoked.  This  is  certain  to  happen  when  some 
impulses  are  at  least  partially  inhibited  as  the  result  of  a  dim 
sense  of  the  problematic  character  of  their  consequences. 
Thus  an  array  of  warring  tendencies  is  marshaled  forth,  and 
the  disagreeable  feeling  that  evoked  them  irradiates  into  the 
consciousness  of  their  conflict. 

So  constant  is  this  association  in  man  between  disagreeable 
feeling  and  a  conflict  of  motor  impulses  that  Professor  Judd 
has  declared  1  such  struggle  to  be  the  sole  condition  of  this  sort 
of  feeling.  As  has  just  been  shown,  the  relation  might  be 
stated  in  the  reverse  way.  A  conflict  of  impulses  normally 
results  from  disagreeable  feeling.  However,  the  inhibition 
and  conflict  of  impulses  is  itself  an  unsatisfactory  condition 
from  the  point  of  view  of  readjustment.  It  is  only  when  such 
tendencies  become  coordinated,  or  at  any  rate,  when  some 
break  loose  from  their  inhibitions,  that  tension  is  relieved  and 
satisfaction  is  felt.  Thus,  both  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
condition  that  provokes  it,  and  the  results  that  spring  from  it, 
the  conflict  of  impulses  is  intimately  associated  with  dissatis- 
faction. However,  from  the  point  of  view  of  evolution,  it 
seems  evident  that  both  feeling  associated  with  dangerous 
katabolism,  and  feeling  premonitory  of  such  a  condition  if 
the  impulse  associated  with  it  is  carried  out,  should  precede 
and  furnish  the  basis  for  feeling  provoked  by  a  struggle  of 
impulses.  Therefore  the  list  of  conditions  of  feeling  offered 
by  Professor  Angell 2  seems  correctly  to  suggest  the  genetic 
order.  According  to  this  we  have  three  sources  of  disagreeable 
feelings  :  (i)  diseased  conditions  of  the  organism  ;  (2)  exces- 
sive neural  stimulation  ;  and  (3)  the  checking  or  impeding 
of  consciousness  in  the  efforts  to  guide  action. 

1  Psychology,  Ch.  VII.  *  Psychology,  Ch.  XTV. 


View  that  the 
third  is  the 
most 
general 
condition 
of  feeling 


Angell's 
three  con- 
ditions of 
disagree- 
able feeling 


198 


Principles  of  Education 


Cognition 
implies 
ideational 
readjust- 
ment 


While  not  identical  with  the  classification  of  the  conditions 
of  feeling  offered  in  the  preceding  discussion,  Professor  Angell's 
list  suggests  the  simpler  as  well  as  the  more  complex  conditions 
under  which  this  selective  principle  may  be  supposed  to  work. 
At  first  operative  to  check  katabolism  before  it  has  gone  too 
far,  feeling  rouses  reactions  that  serve  as  experiments  toward 
remedying  this  condition.  Thus  profiting  by  results  becomes 
possible.  Then,  through  the  growth  of  greater  sensitivity 
and  the  working  of  the  principle  of  irradiation,  feeling  is  enabled 
to  forewarn  against  dangerous  conditions  before  they  have 
actually  come  to  pass.  Thus  it  inhibits  impulses  that  might 
lead  to  destructive  consequences,  and  provokes  others  in  the 
search  for  one  free  from  the  taint  of  suspicion.  Learning  be- 
comes more  speedy.  It  forestalls  injury  more  effectively,  and 
the  way  is  opened  up  for  the  avoidance  of  the  dangers  of  actual 
experimentation.  Finally,  with  the  higher,  more  resourceful  or- 
ganisms, feeling  becomes  wedded  to  those  conditions  of  conflict 
which  furnish  the  foundation  for  ideational  readjustment,  and 
in  this  the  anticipation  of  results  and  the  avoidance  of  the 
wear  and  tear  of  actual  experimentation  are  at  a  maximum. 

SECTION  25.    Perceptual  readjustment 

The  essential  feature  of  learning  by  trial  and  error  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  presence  of  actual  as  contrasted  with  mere 
ideational  experimentation.  But  ideational  readjustment  does 
not  Minerva-like  spring  suddenly  into  perfect  operation.  In- 
deed, we  rarely  if  ever  find  it  working  without  some  assistance 
from  the  testing  of  actual  results.  On  the  other  hand,  when- 
ever cognition  anticipates  the  outcome  of  an  impulse,  there 
some  degree  of  ideational  readjustment  is  present,  for,  as  we 
have  seen,1  cognitive  consciousness  has  everywhere  the  task  of 
learning  as  its  fundamental  function. 

»|x8. 


Learning  by   Trial  and  Error  199 

It  is  important  to  note  that  affection  is  concerned  just  as  Functions  of 
much  in  anticipating  the  outcome  of  action  as  is  cognition. 
There  is,  however,  this  difference.  Affection  merely  fore-  tion 
shadows  failure  or  success  ;  cognition  presents  a  neutral 
descriptive  account  of  the  outcome,  —  an  account  that  may 
mean  failure  or  success  according  to  purposes  and  circum- 
stances. The  usefulness  of  cognition  lies  in  that  its  material 
can  be  utilized  in  cases  where  the  specific  outcome  of  proposed 
reactions  has  never  been  tested.  Affection  registers  the  verdict 
of  the  actual  test.  Cognition  so  anticipates  the  result  as  to 
make  possible  a  verdict  without  a  test. 

We  have  seen  *  that  cognition  may  by  remembering  the   Cognition  an 
outcome  of  specific  experiments  strengthen  the  inhibitions  or 


the  approvals  of  feeling,  thus  assisting  it  in  the  formation  of      resources 

habits.     This  function  is,    however,  merely  incidental  to  its 

main  one,  which  is  to  enlarge  the  action  system  by  providing 

ideas  of  action  based  on  past  experience.     Conscious  memory 

saves  what  learning  by  trial  and  error  loses.     Our  failures  as 

well  as  our  successes  provide  us  with  an  experience  which 

enhances  our  mental  resources  when  again  we  learn. 

Cognition  not  only  provides  resources,  but  it  gives  them  in  a 
form  that  enables  us  to  appraise  their  value,  at  least  to  some 
extent,  without  actual  experimentation.  It  furnishes  ideas  of 
action.  These  ideas  may  be  related,  organized,  compared, 
and  thus  their  relative  practical  value  may  be  determined  by 
purely  mental  operations.  This  process  of  selecting  by  think- 
ing the  idea  that  shall  control  action  we  have  called,  from  what 
may  be  regarded  as  its  perfected  form,  judgment.  To  have  ideationai 
ideational  experimentation,  on  the  one  hand,  we  must  have 


experience  manifesting  itself  in  the  form  of  ideas  of  possible  involving 

i  •  both  ideas 

action,  and,  on  the  other  hand,   the  mechanism  of  feeling,  and  judg- 

which  anticipates  results  already  practically  tested  either  in  ment 

'§19- 


2OO  Principles  of  Education 

the  individual  or  the  race,  must  be  supplemented  by  some 
phase  of  the  mechanism  of  judgment,  by  which  we  may  fore- 
cast results  that  have  never  been  specifically  subjected  to  actual 
test.  There  must  be  notions  of  things  to  do,  and  the  mind 
must  be  capable  of  bringing  these  into  logical  relations  with 
each  other.  Instead  of  relying  wholly  on  the  test  of  the  overt 
result,  we  must  be  able  to  submit  our  plan  of  action  to  some 
mental  standard  by  which  its  reliability  may  be  estimated. 

Perception  a       In  perception,  the  simplest  form  of  genuine  cognition,  we 

have  an  illustration  of  ideational  experimentation  in  its  begin- 

ideationai     nings.     On  the  other  hand,  perceptual  control  is  so  dependent 

mentUS        upon  the  suggestions  of  the  senses,  and  so  wedded  to  the  guid- 

ance of  the  apprehension  of  results,  that  it  presents  to  us  the 

features  of  learning  by  trial  and  error  rather  than  those  of 

learning  through  ideas  alone.     It  will  be  our  task  in  this  sec- 

tion to  show  from  an  analysis  of  perception  that,  while  it  func- 

tions as  an  adjunct  of  trial  and  error  learning,  it  illustrates, 

nevertheless,  a  genuine  case  of  ideational  readjustment. 

Conflict  The  preliminary  condition  of  ideational  readjustment  is,  as 

we  nave  seen  m  tne  last  section,  the  inhibition  of  impulses. 


function-  Only  thus  do  we  get  a  chance  to  put  ideas  in  control  of  the 
current  of  action.  But  the  mere  checking  of  one  impulse  is 
not  enough,  provided  it  merely  makes  way  for  another.  There 
must  be  a  number  of  impulses  in  struggle  for  supremacy,  and 
these  impulses  must  be  associated  with  ideas  of  their  nature 
and  outcome.  The  struggle  of  impulses  may  then  be  regarded 
as  a  struggle  of  ideas.1  This  conflict  can  be  settled  by  a  battle 

1  It  may  be  thought  that  I  am  talking  in  terms  of  an  abandoned  phase  of 
the  psychology  of  Herbart.  The  idea,  as  with  the  English  Associationists,  is 
dealt  with  as  an  entity  that  struggles  with  others,  and,  perhaps,  fuses  with  them, 
but  remains  through  all  in  its  simple  essence  the  same.  This  view  seems  to 
atomize  consciousness  in  an  entirely  unwarranted  way.  My  treatment  of  the 
idea  does  not  imply  that  it  is  to  have  such  substantial  identity.  We  have  only 
to  think  of  it  as  a  living  thing,  a  mental  activity,  that  is  not  of  necessity  per- 


Learning  by  Trial  and  Error  201 

under  the  rules  of  mental  activity,  —  if  you  will,  —  of  intel- 
ligence or  of  logic.  Without  a  struggle  of  impulses,  ideas  get 
no  chance  to  become  adjusted  to  each  other.  Hence  they  do 
not  function.  If  we  can  conceive  them  to  be  present  at  all, 
they  are  mere  incumbrances  to  the  impulses  with  which  they 
are  associated. 

A  perception  may  be  defined  as  an  interpreted  sensation. 
Perception    lifts    sensation    into    consciousness    by    giving   it 
meaning.     The  element  of  significance  or  relation  comes  from 
the  past.     It  is  that  in  the  perception  which  is  due  to  experi- 
ence, to  memory.      It  is,  however,  so  intimately  fused  with 
what  the  senses  give  that  one  cannot  tell  introspectively  where 
sensation  ends  and  interpretation  begins.     The  separation  can 
best  be  effected  by  experiments  in  which  the  same  sensation 
receives,  because  of  a  different  context  or  mental  attitude,  a 
different  interpretation.     Herein  also  may  be  seen  the  func- 
tion of  perception.      Since  the  same  sensation  may  according   Perceptual 
to  circumstances  have  several  interpretations,  and  so  several      uo 
appropriate  responses,  perception  becomes  a  process  of  attach-      problem- 
ing  to  a  situation  an  interpretation  which  may  be  problematic 
or  new,  and  in  any  case  is  sufficiently  variable  or  unlearned 
to  preclude  an  effective   habitual   response.     Wherever  such 
an  habitual   response   becomes    established,  there  perception 
abandons  the  field  to  automatism.     Its  function  is  to  deter-   Their  deter- 
mine the   interpretation  of  sensations   by  reference   to   their      matter*  of* 
contexts,  and  this  is  ideational  readjustment.  ideationai 

readjust- 

Perceptual  interpretations  are  of  many  kinds.     Two  of  the      ment 
most  important  are  what  are  known  as  recognition  and  locali- 
zation.    Recognition  is  noting  what  an  object  is,  localization    illustration 
is  fixing  its  position.     Both  are  fundamental  to  the  proper  re-      ^  Of  rec- 
ognition 

manently  individuated,  but  still  is  an  entity  playing  a  real  part  in  determining 
the  direction  of  consciousness.  This  view,  I  take  it,  agrees  both  with  the 
accepted  notions  of  psychologists  to-day  and  with  facts  of  experience. 


202  Principles  of  Education 

action  toward  an  object  in  space.  Each  is  a  result  of  a  com- 
parison of  sensory  data  more  or  less  involved,  although  the 
processes  of  this  comparison  are  not  attended  to  and  distin- 
guished. If  a  wolf  hears  a  sound,  as  of  the  crackling  of  leaves, 
many  interpretations  of  its  meaning  are  possible.  It  may  be 
caused  by  the  wind  and  so  bear  no  message  of  importance. 
It  may  be  the  tread  of  a  living  creature,  —  an  animal  upon 
which  the  wolf  preys,  a  fellow-wolf,  a  hunter.  The  reaction  of 
the  listener  should  be  different  for  each  of  these.  The  sound, 
doubtless,  suggests  to  the  wolf  more  or  less  vaguely  each  in- 
terpretation. The  first  result  is  an  alertness  of  attention  to 
various  sensory  clews  that  may  corroborate  one  among  the 
many  objects  vaguely  conjectured.  This  attitude  may  be 
supplemented  by  an  experimental  one.  The  wolf  may  move 
about,  it  may  bring  into  play  various  senses,  in  the  hope  that 
some  new  development  will  furnish  the  suggestion  that  will 
determine  which  interpretation  to  take.  Perhaps  one  inter- 
pretation may,  owing  to  something  in  the  surroundings  or  to 
the  individual  feelings  of  the  wolf,  seize  the  attention  and  de- 
termine a  tentative  action.  However,  the  developments  of 
a  few  moments  may  to  an  alert  animal  signify  the  need  of  an 
immediate  reversal  of  this  reaction.  Instead  of  running  away, 
as  from  a  dangerous  enemy,  perhaps  it  should  be  pursuing  some 
creature  upon  which  it  feeds. 

(2)  the  case  It  will  be  seen  that  the  condition  of  perceptual  control  is 
tion°Ca  "  one  °f  alertness ;  that  is,  one  in  which  many  interpretations 
are  held  ready  to  seize  the  focus  of  attention  as  new  data  come 
to  the  support  of  this  or  that  one.  It  is  in  the  corroborations 
and  the  contradictions  of  these  data,  in  the  correlation  of  them 
into  a  basis  for  a  compromise  or  coordinated  activity,  that 
perception  illustrates  ideational  readjustment.  Such  cor- 
relation is  especially  in  evidence  in  localization.  The  locality 
of  an  exciting  object  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  data 


Learning  by  Trial  and  Error  203 

upon  which  a  reaction  toward  it  is  based.  If  an  object  is  a 
foot  away,  our  movements  in  reference  to  it  will  be  very  dif- 
ferent from  those  toward  the  same  object  a  mile  away.  If  a 
cat  pursues  a  bird,  at  a  certain  distance  it  crouches  and  creeps, 
at  another  it  springs.  These  reactions  are  not  dependent 
upon  localization  alone.  What  the  object  is,  what  accom- 
panies it,  where  it  is,  —  all  combine  to  constitute  an  array  of 
specific  conditions  that  may  be  very  complicated  indeed.  Yet 
each  factor  may  be  instrumental  in  determining  the  char- 
acter of  the  response.  The  reaction  of  a  sheep  toward  a  wolf 
may  depend  on  the  distance  of  the  wolf,  the  character  of  the 
intervening  country,  the  presence  or  absence  of  guardian  dogs 
or  men,  and  so  on  indefinitely.  As  a  rule  each  factor  will  find 
its  reflection  in  the  total  movement  of  the  sheep. 

To  bring  out  more  clearly  the  complicated  nature  of  the  data  Complicated 
that  enter  into  the  adjustments  of  perception,  we  may  note  ^The^r- 
not  only  that  the  stimulus  usually  consists  of  many  objects  ceptual 
which  must  be  recognized  and  perhaps  localized  in  order  to 
control  action  properly,  but  also  that  these  processes  of  recog- 
nition and  localization  are  themselves  frequently  a  result  of 
a  correlation  of  data.  We  have  shown  how  recognition  may 
require  the  cooperation  of  several  cues,  and  often  involves 
quite  a  little  experimental  activity.  Localization  may  be 
equally  complicated.  If  it  takes  place  through  vision,  it  in- 
volves a  comparison  of  the  image  of  the  object  to  be  located 
with  its  known  size.  Moreover,  the  number  and  size  of  inter- 
vening objects,  relative  clearness,  binocular  disparity,  the 
amount  of  binocular  convergence,  and  many  other  factors 
enter  in  to  determine  by  joint  or  majority  agreement  the  po- 
sition that  shall  be  assigned  to  the  object. 

The  process  by  which  these  various  factors  in  perception 
are  weighed  and  resolved  into  a  practical  decision  is,  of  course, 
not,  like  that  of  reasoning  and  judgment,  clear  to  introspec- 


204  Principles  of  Education 

tion.     Indeed,  without  experimental  aid  one  would  not  be  able 

to  detect  the  factors  themselves.1    Yet,  although  obscure  and 

not  consciously  recognized,   these  "  premises"  of  perceptual 

interpretation  are,  nevertheless,  taken  account  of,  and  where 

illusions  as      they  are  wanting  or  ambiguous  effective  perceptual  control 

ofUSpercep-  ceases.     Illusions  of  distance  arise  because  in  the  conflict  of 


in-  data  certain  unreliable  ones  overbear  others.  When  we  stand 
on  the  verge  of  an  unusually  high  precipice,  objects  below  seem 
like  miniatures.  Objects  at  a  much  greater  distance  but  on 
the  same  level  do  not  ordinarily  seem  smaller  than  they  should. 
Since  the  experience  of  surveying  things  several  hundred  or 
more  feet  below  is  out  of  the  common,  the  mind  fails  to  read 
relative  size  immediately  into  distance,  as  it  does  in  ordinary 
cases.  There  is  a  conflict  among  the  cues  as  to  the  position 
of  the  thing,  and  the  suggestion  springing  from  the  size  of  the 
image  yields  so  far  as  the  sense  of  distance  is  concerned,  but 
reasserts  itself,  insisting  that,  if  the  objects  are  not  far  away, 
they  must  at  least  be  very  small. 

isolation  of  As  memory  evolves  into  greater  retentiveness,  the  struggle 
tkmsMis  a"  to  synthesize  the  various  significances  that  attach  to  the  sense 
ideas  impressions  becomes  fiercer.  The  ultimate  outcome  of  this 

struggle  is  that  the  meanings  are  forced  apart  from  the  sensa- 
tions with  which  they  were  at  first  so  closely  fused,  and  are 
lifted  into  independent  existence  as  ideas.  When  this  is  done, 
we  have  passed  beyond  perceptual  readjustment,  and  have 
reached  the  beginnings  of  conscious  reasoning.  In  regard  to 
localization  we  become  conscious  first  of  the  fact  that  we  are 
estimating  distance,  then  of  the  various  estimates  that  are  in 
conflict,  and  finally  of  the  data  on  which  these  estimates  are 
based.  Here,  as  everywhere,  clearer  consciousness  arises  be- 
cause of  its  necessity  as  a  means  of  readjustment.  Perception 

1  Compare  Stratton,  Experimental  Psychology  and  its  Relation  to  Culture,  Ch. 
II,  "The  Evidence  for  Unconscious  Ideas." 


Learning  by  Trial  and  Error  205 

attends  in  general  only  to  those  sensations  that  require  mental 
readjustment  in  order  that  they  may  be  interpreted  properly. 
It  evolves  into  reasoning  in  the  endeavor  to  grapple  with  cer- 
tain of  these  interpretations  more  securely. 

In  discussing  the  relation  between  consciousness  and  habit,1   Habitual 
we  noted  that,  while  consciousness  saves  an  account  of  the  im-      nature    °f 

perceptual 

pulses  that  are  eliminated  in  the  formation  of  habits,  neverthe-  interpreta- 
less,  not  all  such  material  is  preserved.  Moreover,  the  de- 
termination of  what  shall  be  retained  rests  upon  the  very  laws 
of  habit  which  eliminate  certain  impulses  and  establish  others. 
We  remember  selected  experiences,  and  these  are  in  a  sense 
habitual  experiences.  This  fact  is  especially  well  illustrated 
in  the  interpretations  of  perception.  The  process  by  which 
these  are  associated  with  their  sensations  is  at  bottom  essen- 
tially one  of  trial  and  error,  and  the  result  is  a  habit.  As 
consciousness  grows  richer,  however,  the  standard  of  selection 
to  which  interpretations  must  submit  in  order  to  stick  to  the 
cues  that  excite  them  ceases  to  be  merely  the  overt  outcome 
of  following  them  and  becomes  to  a  considerable  extent  their 
agreement  with  other  interpretations  which  are  themselves  to 
some  degree  established  by  the  laws  of  habit. 

The  logic  of  perceptual  readjustment  is,  for  the  most  part,   The  logic  of 
a  logic  of  habit  and  of  feeling.     Habits  of  thought  are  thrust      %%£&? 
into  company  with  other  habits  of  thought.     They  can  live      perceptual 
if  they  can  live  harmoniously.     Otherwise  some  must  disap- 
pear.     Often  ways  of  thinking  essentially  inconsistent  may 
survive  because  they  never  have  been  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  same  activity  in  such  a  way  that  their  inconsistency  results 
in  actual  failure  of  readjustment.     In  that  event  certain  inter- 
pretations disappear,  not  because  they  are  inconsistent  with 
established  ideas,  but  because  they  do  not  work  in  practice. 
However,  the  repetition  of  such  struggles,  and  the  constant 

'§19- 


2O6 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  con-  recurrence  of  a  settlement  which  conforms  to  principles  of 
lode5  mental  consistency,  forces  these  principles  before  attention  as 
selective  factors  which  may  in  anticipation  of  the  judgment 
of  the  event  enable  unreliable  interpretations  to  be  eliminated. 
Thus  ways  of  thinking  come  to  be  rejected,  not  merely  because 
they  do  not  work  in  fact,  but  also  because  they  do  not  work 
in  thought.  Ideas  are  submitted  not  only  to  the  empirical,  but 
also  to  the  logical  test,  and  ideational  readjustment  becomes 
self-conscious. 

The  sense  of  consistency  among  ideas  is  at  first  far  enough 
from  scientific  criticism.  It  is  a  mere  feeling  of  harmony  or 
its  lack,  that  operates,  as  feeling  everywhere  does,  selectively. 
We  have  here  what  we  have  called  a  logic  of  feeling.  The 
principles  of  consistency  are  felt,  but  not  clearly  cognized. 
However,  such  feeling  frequently  suffices  to  forestall  actual 
experimental  resolution  of  inconsistencies.  The  clear  con- 
sciousness of  logical  requirements  arises,  as  does  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  ideas  which  logic  enables  us  consistently  to  relate, 
because  of  the  pressure  of  the  need  of  readjustment,  the  preva- 
lence of  error.  Only  through  the  development  of  rationality 
to  take  the  place  of  mere  intuition,  or  feeling  of  correctness, 
can  the  complicated  and  variable  situations  of  human  life  be 
satisfactorily  met. 

The  procedure  of  perceptual  as  of  all  readjustment  is  one 
of  experiment.1  Experimentation  consists  here  in  the  passing 
of  a  certain  interpretation  before  attention.  But  if  the  read- 
justment is  to  be  a  mental  one,  this  interpretation  must  not 
wholly  control  action  ;  the  movement  that  is  provoked  must 
be  merely  tentative ;  and  the  mind  must  remain  alert  to  note 
any  development  that  may  confound  or  confirm  the  sugges- 
tion that  attention  entertains.  In  pure  trial  and  error  learn- 
ing the  experiment  is  an  impulse.  As  we  pass  over  to  conscious 

1  Compare  §  17. 


Mental  ex- 
perimenta- 
tion in 
perceptual 
readjust- 
ment 


Learning  by  Trial  and  Error  207 

learning,  it  becomes  a  mental  hypothesis  to  be  tested  more  Overt  and 
and  more  by  an  ideational  rather  than  by  an  overt  test.     The 


tests 


advance  to  the  higher  form  of  learning  means  also  that  atten- 
tion, instead  of  being  so  much  on  the  alert  to  note  the  external 
developments  which  experimental  movements  are  bringing  to 
pass,  becomes  more  and  more  absorbed  in  the  inner  world  of 
ideas  from  which  it  may  expect  to  derive  many  if  not  most  of 
its  standard  tests  for  truth. 

To  resume,  the  characteristic  features  of  trial  and  error  learn-  Summary 
ing  are  the  actual  experiment  and  the  judgment  of  the  event  as 
indicated  by  feeling.  The  characteristic  features  of  conscious 
learning  are  hypotheses,  or  ideational  experiments,  and  the 
test  of  the  judgment  of  experience,  as  indicated  by  conformity 
to  ideas  held  to  be  true.  The  link  between  learning  by  trial 
and  error  and  conscious  learning  is  found  in  perception.  Per- 
ception is  characterized  by  attention  to  the  outward,  alertness 
to  the  outcome  of  tentative  activity  initiated  by  its  sugges- 
tions. It  submits  its  hypotheses  to  a  test  partly  of  overt  re- 
sults, partly  of  conformity  to  ideas.  Its  logic  is  one  of  habit 
and  feeling.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  perception  holds  all  im- 
pulses inhibited,  at  least  partially,  until  its  logic  is  satisfied. 
Its  attitude  is  not  quite  that  of  reflective  suspension  of  judg- 
ment, but  rather  that  of  alertness  to  many  objective  events  that 
are  felt  to  concern  effective  action.  Such  alertness  is  an  idea- 
tional attitude  that  may  be  called  the  forerunner  of  critical  re- 
flection. In  perceptual  readjustment  the  ideas  of  action  are 
not  free  ideas,  but  are  wedded  to  sensory  cues.  The  transi- 
tion to  conscious  learning  involves  the  analysis  of  perception, 
the  separation  of  sensory  cue  from  interpretation,  and  the  con- 
scious endeavor  to  estimate  the  reliability  of  the  interpreta- 
tion, which  now  of  course  is  recognized  as  a  mere  idea.  It 
further  involves  the  discovery  of  various  relations  among  ideas. 
The  reliable  ones  are  separated  and  fixed  in  memory,  the  un- 


208  Principles  of  Education 

reliable  are  eliminated.  Lastly,  the  logical  sense  must  appear, 
and  there  must  be  a  clear  grasp  of  logical  principles  by  which 
the  conformity  of  the  plan  of  action  to  the  mental  standard 
of  reliability  may  be  tested.  From  felt  we  must  advance  to 
known  consistency. 


CHAPTER  VIH 

CONSCIOUS   LEARNING 

SECTION  26.    Factors  in  conscious  learning 

ONE  cannot  emphasize  too  much  the  fact  that  what  we  find 
in  practice  is  not  mere  trial  and  error  learning,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  pure  ideational  readjustment,  on  the  other,  so  much 
as  it  is  a  combination  of  the  two.  From  one  extreme,  where 
the  resources  of  learning  are  blind  impulses  and  the  process  is 
controlled  by  mere  feeling  of  results,  to  the  other,  where  the 
resources  are  ideas  and  where  deliberation  is  brought  to  a 
conclusion  only  when  a  suggestion  is  found  that  conforms  con- 
sciously to  the  accepted  criteria  of  judgment,  we  find  all  sorts 
of  intermediate  processes.  To  some  of  these  nearly  every 
case  of  human  learning  can  be  referred.  Such  learning  is 
rarely  without  perceptual  control,  in  which  we  have  the  begin- 
nings of  ideational  readjustment,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
very  seldom  reaches  pure  reasoning. 

The  phases  of  conscious  learning  may  be  roughly  divided 
into  perceptual,  imaginative,  and  conceptual  readjustment, 
the  latter  being  in  its  perfected  form  reasoning.  These  forms 
are  to  be  distinguished  by  the  sort  of  material  that  makes  up 
the  resources  in  learning.  On  the  other  hand,  the  method  of 
selection  may  be  made  a  basis  of  distinguishing  sorts  of  learn- 
ing. Here  we  find  such  phases  as  resolution  of  struggle  of  im- 
pulses through  the  outcome  of  the  interplay  of  forces  in  the 
body  stimulated  by  these  impulses ;  resolution  by  the  control 
of  attention  through  the  perception  of  results,  or  by  inner  feel- 
f  209 


2IO 


Principles  of  Education 


Distinctness 
of  resource- 
fulness and 
judgment 


Resource- 
fulness 
precedent 
to  judg- 
ment 


ings  or  attitudes  that  assert  their  sway ;  resolution  through 
conscious  experimentation  that  aims  to  anticipate  or  test 
results ;  conscious,  rational  deliberation.  These  are  but  a 
few  of  many  forms,  to  be  described  later,  through  which  judg- 
ment passes  on  the  way  to  clearly  conscious  control  over  the 
process  of  ideational  readjustment.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  all 
these  phases  of  learning  cooperate  in  a  great  variety  of  com- 
binations. Imagination  rarely  works  independently  of  per- 
ception, much  less  reasoning  independently  of  imagination. 
So,  too,  the  simpler  phases  of  resolution  are  seldom  entirely  ab- 
sent, even  when  judgment  assumes  its  most  deliberate  forms. 

The  two  factors  of  ideational  readjustment,  mental  resource- 
fulness and  judgment,  are  sufficiently  distinct  to  be  capable 
of  varying  independently.  The  mind,  when  it  develops  within 
itself  both  an  action  system  upon  which  experimentation  can 
be  based,  and  a  capacity  for  selection  by  which  such  experi- 
mentation can  be  settled,  necessarily  brings  each  advance 
to  bear  upon  the  other.  However,  it  is  quite  possible  for 
resourcefulness  to  outrun  judgment,  and  with  some  it  would 
seem  that  the  judgment  excels  the  fertility  of  the  mind.  In  a 
general  way,  mental  development  begins  with  mental  vari- 
ability. At  first,  this  new  material  is  subjected  to  the  simpler 
methods  of  resolution  and  selection  that  have  all  along  pre- 
vailed. Later  on,  new  phases  of  judgment,  made  possible 
by  the  new  sort  of  material  which  it  is  to  control,  appear. 

The  precedence  of  resourcefulness  to  judgment  is  but  an  il- 
lustration of  the  general  relation  between  variation  and  selec- 
tion throughout  evolution.  It  would  seem  that  this  relation 
is  necessary  and  inevitable.  How  can  there  be  selection  until 
there  is  something  to  select,  something  to  eliminate?  How 
can  judgment  appear  until  ideas  have  been  created  to  be 
judged?  One  can  understand  how  ideas  might  function 
through  an  appeal  to  lower  types  of  selection,  even  though 


Conscious  Learning 


211 


true  judgment  could  scarcely  be  said  to  exist,  but  it  seems 
impossible  for  judgment  to  outrun  ideas.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  here  we  do  have  a  general  fact.  However,  it  is 
also  evident  that  in  social  intercourse  the  ideas  may  come  from 
some  and  the  judgment  from  others.  Thus  cooperation  makes 
possible  specialization  in  a  talent  that  otherwise  would  lie  in 
abeyance  for  lack  of  material  to  work  upon.  Some  possess 
and  cultivate  a  power  that  exercises  itself  largely  in  selecting 
and  adapting  the  suggestions  made  by  others. 

Both  mental  resourcefulness  and  judgment  are  capable  of 
further  analysis.  Each  involves  a  factor  of  content  and  one 
of  attitude.1  From  the  point  of  view  of  content,  resourceful- 
ness involves  the  experience  from  which  can  be  constructed 
ideas  of  possible  ways  of  meeting  new  emergencies,  and  judg- 
ment requires  that  we  have  standards  of  relative  value  that 
we  can  apply  to  these  ideas  in  order  to  test  their  reliability  as 
plans  of  action.  The  necessity  of  the  attitude  is  seen  in  the 
fact  that  one  may  have  much  experience  and  few  ideas.  To 
convert  the  one  into  the  other,  the  thinker  must  have  a  cer- 
tain power  of  calling  up  his  resources,  which  may  be  called 
the  attitude  of  originality.  Without  originality  experience  is 
capital  that  cannot  be  liquidated  or  applied  to  new  uses.  It  is 
mere  habit  of  thought  that  cannot  be  separated  from  its  mooring 
in  a  context  of  experience  and  floated  away  to  another  situa- 
tion to  take  part  in  a  novel  service.  The  attitude  depends 
partly  on  such  an  organization  of  experience  as  enables  its 
recall  in  new  situations,  and  partly  upon  an  intellectual  daring, 
a  loosening  of  inhibitions,  a  feeling  that  stimulates  to  mental 
adventure.  All  these  combine  to  enable  the  mind  to  range 
among  its  resources,  converting  what  at  first  glance  seem  like 

1  The  word  "attitude"  is  used  very  much  as  by  Professor  Judd.  Compare 
his  Psychology,  and  his  article  on  the  "Doctrine  of  Attitudes,"  Journal  of  Phil. 
Psych,  and  Sc.  Metft.,  Vol.  V,  No.  25. 


Judgment 
may  out- 
run fertil- 
ity of 
mind 


Resource- 
fulness as 
dependent 
on  experi- 
ence and 
the  attitude 
of  original- 
ity 


212  Principles  of  Education 

foreign  and  irrelevant  lines  of  thought  into  the  source  of  ideas 
that  startle  in  the  effectiveness  of  their  application  to  the 
emergency  in  hand. 

judgment  as      Just  as  resourcefulness  depends  not  only  upon  a  content  of 
i-  exPerience>  but  also  upon  an  attitude  of  originality,  by  which 


edge  of  this  experience  may  be  converted  into  ideas,  so  judgment  is 
and*  theS  not  merely  a  matter  of  a  knowledge  of  the  standards  of  relia- 
criticai  at-  bility  and  desirability,  but  also  of  an  attitude  that  enables 

titude  .  . 

these  standards  to  be  put  into  effect.  We  may  call  this  the 
logical  or  critical  attitude.  It  is  essentially  a  tendency  toward 
mental  caution,  toward  inhibition.  We  feel  that  we  must 
"look  before  we  leap,"  that  no  plan  of  action  should  be  allowed 
to  prevail  until  it  has  stood  the  test  of  judgment.  One  may 
have  very  good  ideas  as  to  what  sort  of  suggestions  are  most 
akely  to  prove  wise  in  certain  classes  of  emergencies,  yet  he 
may  be  so  impulsive  or  so  thoughtless  that  these  ideas  never 
get  a  proper  chance  to  function.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are 
some  in  whom,  as  a  result  of  nature  or  training  or  both,  the 
critical,  hesitating  temper  has  grown  so  strong  that  decision 
becomes  exceedingly  difficult. 

The  attitudes  It  is  important  to  recognize  the  reality  of  these  attitudes 
from'  the  Ct  aPart  Irom  tne  materials  with  which  they  deal.  In  a  sense, 
content  of  they  are  general  in  character,  for,  if  they  are  natural  or  habitual 

thinking  •i«*iii 

to  an  individual,  they  recur  whenever  a  new  emergency  is 
faced  or  new  ideas  are  proposed.  The  existence  of  such  states 
of  mind  has  been  ignored  by  the  Herbartians  and  questioned 
by  many  modern  psychologists  under  the  influence  of  the  view 
that  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  can  all  be  reduced  to 
definite  ideas  and  their  interrelations.  Thus  they  deal  with 
the  attitude  as  merely  the  outcome  of  the  content  of  mind, 
and  hence  as  attached  solely  to  the  definite  experiences  in 
connection  with  which  it  arose.  It  is  regarded  as  incapable 
of  functioning  apart  from  them,  much  less  of  varying  inde- 


Conscious  Learning 


213 


pendently.  The  content  theory  of  mind  will  be  discussed  more 
fully  later  in  connection  with  the  chapter  on  Formal  Disci- 
pline. For  the  present  I  wish  to  assume,  what  seems  evident 
enough  to  analysis,  that  although  the  attitude  and  the  content 
develop  side  by  side,  yet  they  are  distinct.  We  are,  indeed, 
incapable  of  being  original  unless  we  have  some  experience, 
or  of  being  critical  without  something  corresponding  to  a 
sense  of  standards ;  yet  originality  is  not  commensurate  with 
experience,  nor  mental  caution  with  an  awareness  of  the  con- 
ditions with  which  sound  judgment  should  conform. 

Indeed,  in  regard  to  the  critical  attitude,  it  seems  that  one 
may  be  cautious  and  hesitating  without  any  clear  notion  of 
the  definite  reason  for  such  action.  One  may  even  display 
this  attitude  where  no  such  definite  reason  exists.  We  have 
only  to  feel  that  the  situation  is  in  some  way  new  and  strange 
and  that  well-established  habits  do  not  fit  readily.  Under  these 
conditions  an  idea  of  action  may  be  inhibited,  not  because  we 
recognize  its  failure  to  conform  to  the  conditions  of  success,  but 
just  because  it  is  new  and  untried  as  a  solution  of  the  emer- 
gency. We  may  even  fail  to  recognize  what  the  conditions 
of  success  are,  but  simply  feel  the  presence  of  the  unusual. 
In  fact,  the  critical  temper  is  primarily  the  outgrowth  of  fear 
and  caution,  and  these  feelings  may  well  be  regarded  as  ful- 
filling for  mere  perceptual  readjustment  the  function  that 
skepticism  performs  for  reason.  They  inhibit  action  until 
further  data  are  collected,  or  until  the  situation  develops  more 
fully.  They  are  thus  the  condition  for  the  accumulation  of 
cognitive  material  to  aid  the  mind  in  reaching  a  position  that 
is  capable  of  grasping  and  holding  the  attention. 

Just  as  the  critical  temper  may  outrun  the  sense  of  the  con- 
ditions of  decision,  giving  us  a  Hamlet,  or  may  be  easily  swept 
away  by  the  pressure  of  ideas  that  invoke  to  action,  as  some 
think  to  be  the  case  with  Roosevelt,  so  originality  may  be  out 


The  critical 
attitude  as 
varying  in- 
depend- 
ently of 
the  knowl- 
edge of 
standards 


Originality 
as  varying 
independ- 
ently of 
experience 


214 


Principles  of  Education 


Differentia- 
tion of 
standards 
from  plans 


of  balance  with  the  experience  upon  which  it  draws.  Some 
possess  a  vigor  and  daring  of  thought  so  out  of  proportion  to 
their  resources  for  thinking  as  to  produce  the  impression  of 
making  a  very  little  go  a  long  way,  or  of  being  unwarrantably 
presumptuous.  Others  are  so  lacking  in  originality  as  to 
seem  barren-minded  although  their  lives  may  have  been  crowded 
with  experience.  The  study  of  how  better  to  become  the  mas- 
ter of  our  resources  Professor  James  has  very  suggestively 
declared1  to  be  one  of  the  principal  fields  for  applied  psy- 
chology. 

It  may  be  thought  that  the  view  that  the  contents  of  think- 
ing can  be  separated  into  standards  and  plans  needs  defense 
quite  as  much  as  that  which  maintains  the  distinctness  of  the 
rational  attitudes.  In  simpler  forms  of  consciousness  the  ex- 
perience that  comes  up  is  habitual  experience.  It  has  stood 
the  empirical  test  and  become  in  a  measure  standardized. 
However,  as  we  have  seen,  the  evolution  of  greater  sensitive- 
ness means  the  retention  of  that  which  has  been  less  and  less 
hammered  in  by  repetition,  and  so  selected  out  or  standard- 
ized by  mere  practice.  Thus  ideas  appear  which  need  to  be 
tested  by  their  relation  to  other  ideas  that  have  already  passed 
through  the  ordeal.  The  distinction  between  mere  plans  and 
standards  is  thus  an  inevitable  consequence  of  the  enrichment 
of  the  mind  with  material  for  effective  ideational  readjust- 
ment. The  logical  attitude,  that  develops  into  clearer  con- 
sciousness with  the  multiplication  of  these  resources,  inevi- 
tably forces  before  attention  the  mechanism  of  its  procedure. 
This  procedure  demands  valuation  of  the  contents  of  mind  and 
a  process  of  conscious  judgment  on  the  basis  of  such  valu- 
ation. Hence  standards  are  differentiated  and  consciously 
assigned  their  function  in  the  mental  process. 

We  may,  then,  regard  the  evolution  of  conscious  learning 

1  President's  Address,  American  Philosophical  Association,  December,  1906. 


Conscious  Learning  215 

as  essentially  a  matter  of  the  development  into  greater  per-  Summary 
fection  of  these  four  factors.  As  the  capacity  to  store  ex- 
perience grows,  the  mind  increases  its  action  system.  Per- 
ceptual interpretations  are  supplemented  by  images  of  the 
imagination,  and  these  in  turn  by  ideas  of  relation,  or  concepts. 
The  images  and  concepts  become  arranged  according  to  the 
feeling,  and  later  according  to  the  clear  apprehension  of  rela- 
tive worth  into  standard  and  doubtful  ideas.  Doubtful 
ideas,  when  cast  into  the  limbo  of  the  rejected,  are  for  the 
time  being  useless,  but  until  then  they  are  conjectures  from 
whence  ideational  readjustment  draws  its  nourishment.  With 
the  progress  of  conscious  learning,  the  mind  grows  more  and 
more  conscious  of  the  necessities  of  effective  thinking.  It 
comes  to  take  more  consciously  the  attitude  of  conjecture, 
of  speculation,  of  invention.  From  simply  waiting  passively 
for  such  ideas  as  will  to  come  to  its  aid,  it  deliberately  goes  out 
in  search  of  them.  It  becomes  consciously  original.  Simi- 
larly, the  logical  or  critical  attitude  develops  from  the  mere 
hesitation  of  mental  timidity  in  the  face  of  a  new  or  as  yet  not 
comprehended  situation  into  a  clear  sense  of  the  function  of 
reflectiveness  and  criticism,  and  into  an  attitude  of  unwill- 
ingness to  lift  its  inhibitions  upon  action  until  the  standards 
of  judgment  have  been  complied  with. 

SECTION  27.    The  evolution  of  ideas 

The  evolution  of  ideas  we  have  characterized  as  a  phase  of  ideas  as  an 
the  expansion  of  the  action  system  from  which  the  resources     the  action0 
of  learning  are  derived.     Experience  and  ideas  constitute  the      system 
culmination  of  an  extraordinary  array  of  instrumentalities,  — 
muscles  and  their   attached  structures,   the  nervous  system 
with  its  powers  of   coordination,   the    artificial  environment 
with  its  tools,  shelter,  clothing,  capital,  etc.,  and  the  social 


2l6 


Principles  of  Education 


Selection 
may  con- 
tribute to 
resources 


Illustration 
in  the  case 
of  funda- 
mental or 
abstract 
habits 


environment  bringing  the  forms  of  cooperation  to  the  aid  of 
achievement.  To  utilize  these  instrumentalities  ideas  are  in 
some  cases  necessary,  and  nearly  always  of  value.  They 
everywhere  exist  to  facilitate  the  process  of  readjustment. 
Their  function  is  always  to  save  flexibility  in  spite  of  the  in- 
roads of  habit,  to  secure  resources  against  the  devastations 
of  selection.  In  this  task  they  succeed  so  well  that  in  many 
respects  they  more  than  make  good  the  loss.  The  loss  of  power 
to  readjust  involved  in  acquiring  certain  habits  is  more  than 
replaced  by  the  adaptability  furnished  by  the  experience 
gained  in  the  same  process.  In  the  brain  certain  associations 
that  lead  to  action  are  atrophied  and  for  the  time  eliminated, 
but  in  their  place  are  established  associations  that  lead  to 
thought,  to  ideas.  Thus  it  happens  that,  when  we  may  again 
have  need  of  experimental  activity,  these  ideational  associa- 
tions function.  Instead  of  random  diffused  activity,  we  have 
thought  which  relates  to  the  nature  and  results  of  such  activ- 
ity. Ideation,  through  its  own  conclusions,  either  rouses 
again  the  corresponding  movements  or  strengthens  the  in- 
hibitions by  which  they  are  held  in  abeyance. 

It  is  important  to  note  that  the  process  of  selection,  while 
in  general  antithetical  to  that  of  the  development  or  the  in- 
voking of  resources,  is,  nevertheless,  not  only  functionally 
dependent  upon  these  processes,  but  also  contributory  to 
them.  We  have  seen1  that  the  development  of  habits  con- 
tributes to  the  power  to  learn  such  new  adjustments  as  may 
have  them  for  a  basis.  Whenever  the  new  situation  has  in  it 
something  like  the  old,  there  the  habits  attached  to  the  lat- 
ter may  become  a  fruitful  basis  for  experimentation  toward 
readjustment.  The  value  of  habits  is,  therefore,  to  be  esti- 
mated, not  only  on  the  basis  of  the  efficiency  gained  from  their 
use  in  the  emergencies  for  which  they  are  specifically  adapted, 

1  Compare  §  19. 


Conscious  Learning  217 

but  also  by  considering  the  extent  to  which  they  can  be  used  in 
learning.  Thus  we  may  distinguish  between  fundamental 
habits  and  such  as  have  few  relations  and  are,  therefore,  with- 
out much  value  for  readjustment.  Now  the  habits  that  are 
fundamental  may  as  a  rule  be  characterized  as  abstract.  They 
are  associations  of  stimuli  that  constitute  more  or  less  minute 
factors  in  total  concrete  situations  with  responses  that  rarely 
or  never  appear  except  as  integral  parts  of  a  coordinated  move- 
ment. Such  habits  are  a  result  of  analysis  and  selection.  The 
analysis  ordinarily  takes  place  when  one  applies  an  old  habit 
to  a  new  situation.  The  result  is  some  measure  of  separation 
of  the  elements  of  similarity.  On  the  one  hand,  attention  is 
enabled  to  concentrate  upon  the  point  of  likeness  between  the 
two  situations.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  effected  at  least 
a  partial  isolation  of  such  fragment  of  the  original  habitual 
response  as  applies  to  the  new  case.  The  like  factor  in  the 
stimulus  and  the  like  factor  in  the  response  are,  under  the  pres- 
sure of  experimental  learning,  forced  to  cling  together,  and  to 
become  abstracted  from  other  factors  in  the  concrete  situa- 
tions in  which  they  appear. 

Such  abstract  habituation  is  merely  the  forerunner  of  ab-   Abstraction 
stract  thought.     In  both  cases  we  have  an  association  between      1Qadentai 

to  the  cor- 

a  cue  and  a  response.  The  cue  is  either  a  sensation  or  an  idea,  rection  of 
The  response  may  be  either  a  movement  or  a  process  of  thought. 
Without  such  an  association  analysis  and  abstraction  would 
be  impossible.  A  new  situation  is  felt  to  be  like  a  familiar 
one.  An  accustomed  reaction  is  in  consequence  made,  with 
the  result  of  partial  failure.  Experimentation  saves  such  of 
the  old  response  as  is  successful.  Again  this  response  is  stimu- 
lated by  a  situation  in  some  respects  the  same  as  the  preced- 
ing ones,  but  in  others  different  from  them.  Further  analysis 
of  the  response  is  thus  brought  about.  The  result  is  that, 
not  only  are  movements  broken  up  into  constituent  factors, 


2i8  Principles  of  Education 

but  also  stimuli  are  analyzed  into  such  elements  as  constitute 
the  appropriate  motor  cue  to  these  reactions.  To  apply  the 
response  properly,  it  must  be  associated  with  the  stimulus 
that  is  the  proper  signal  for  it.  Hence  this  signal  must  be 
attended  to  in  some  way. 

Value  of  con-      It  is  evident  that  many  of  our  fairly  abstract  habits  are  sug- 

discrhnina-  gested  by  stimuli  that  are  not  so  much  consciously  discrimi- 

tion  of       nated  as  felt.    However,  such  control  is  of  necessity  unreliable 

stimuli        where  we  are  shifting  constantly  from  one  concrete  situation 

to  another.     To  rely  upon  feeling  is  to  be  unable  to  determine 

ideationally  the  character  of  the  situation.    Hence  only  by 

actual  experiment  can  the  appropriateness  of  the  response  be 

tested.     Thus  with  the  growth  of  reflectiveness  the  cues  to 

fundamental  abstract  habits  are  themselves  abstracted  and 

associated  consciously  to  their  proper  responses.     Cognitive 

consciousness  here  illustrates  its  universal  function,  —  that 

of  enabling  an  anticipative  determination  of  the  outcome  of 

experimentation. 

Abstraction  The  process  of  analysis  and  abstraction  by  which  funda- 
mental  habits  or  thought  associations  are  singled  out  is  evi- 


and  con-      dently  a  selective  process.     In  so  far  as  these  elements  are 

to  resource-  material  for  readjustment,  the  process  of  selection  favors  the 

fulness        expansion  of  the  action  system,  the  resources  for  experimen- 

tation.    Selection  is  not  merely  eliminative  ;   it  favors  enrich- 

ment, in    so    far    as    its   products   lend    themselves   to    new 

combinations  that  would  be  impossible  without  them.     An 

individual  equipped  with  a   store  of   such  reliable  habits  of 

action  and  thought  is  enabled  to  achieve  syntheses  of  skill 

or  foresight  immeasurably  beyond  the  possibilities  of  one  who 

depends  on  the  concrete. 

But  while  the  process  of  selection  contributes  to  resource- 
fulness, it  cannot  operate  unless  it  is  provided  with  material. 
The  analysis  upon  which  the  coordinations  of  skill  are  based 


Conscious  Learning 


219 


is  dependent  upon  a  large  equipment  of  muscles  and  a  nerv- 
ous system  capable  of  effecting  the  separation  of  large  mass 
movements,  the  selective  establishment  of  minuter  associa- 
tions, and  the  recombination  of  these  into  elaborate  syn- 
theses. So,  too,  in  the  evolution  of  ideas,  each  phase  of  analy- 
sis and  abstraction  springs  from  conflict  and  contrast,  and  this 
in  turn  is  based  upon  a  more  sensitive  memory,  which  masses 
the  cognitive  material  from  which  the  conflict  arises.  Thus 
both  in  mind  and  body  the  accumulation  of  resources  precedes 
differentiation,  and  differentiation  involves  elimination  and 
selection  as  a  basis  for  analysis  and  abstraction. 

The  two  principles,  first  that  new  analyses  are  founded  upon 
enlarged  resources,  and  second,  that,  although  a  product  of 
selection,  the  abstractions  that  result  from  these  analyses  ul- 
timately foster  a  gain  in  mental  capital,  are  illustrated  at 
each  step  in  the  evolution  of  ideas.  Indeed,  so  important  are 
these  principles  that  the  entire  advance  from  perception  to 
rational  systems  of  thought  seems  to  be  fundamentally  an 
illustration  of  them.  Perceptual  interpretation  is  an  outgrowth 
of  a  memory  sufficiently  sensitive  to  retain  a  vague  sense  of 
several  meanings  that  a  given  sensory  cue  may  suggest.  It  is 
this  conflict  in  interpretation  that  forces  the  specific  nature  of 
each  upon  consciousness.  The  rise  of  perception  involves 
enough  of  consciousness  of  the  novelty  or  of  the  ambiguity 
of  the  situations  it  concerns  to  provoke  doubt  and  hesitancy 
and  hence  to  stir  up  alertness.  Perception  itself  necessitates 
enough  clearly  conscious  interpretation  to  furnish  a  basis  for 
experimentation  that  aims  to  discover,  in  the  first  instance, 
the  nature  of  the  stimulus,  and  only  ultimately  the  proper  re- 
sponse. As  a  cognitive  process,  its  purpose  is  to  settle  a  men- 
tal issue  by  mental  data.  Hence  it  experiments  to  get  these 
data,  trusting  that  they  can  be  obtained  in  time  to  forestall 
serious  results.  We  do  not  perceive  those  stimuli  to  which 


Resources 
necessary 
as  a  basis 
for  selec- 
tion 


The  evolu- 
tion of 
ideas  de- 
pendent 
on  (i)  more 
sensitive 
memory: 
(2)  selec- 
tive pro- 
cesses 
that  assist 
memory 


22O 


Principles  of  Education 


Perception 
illustrates 
this,  for, 
(i)  it  is 
based  on 
memory  of 
conflicting 
interpreta- 
tions, 


(2)   these  in- 
terpreta- 
tions are 
selected 
and  ab- 
stract 


we  invariably  react  in  one  regular  way.  Automatism  reigns 
here.  But  when  a  stimulus  means  many  things  according  to 
context,  then  it  is  necessary  for  cognition  to  sweep  under  its 
inspection  a  conscious  representation  of  this  context  in  order 
in  any  degree  to  anticipate  the  outcome  of  the  event. 

In  a  preceding  section  *  an  attempt  was  made  to  indicate  the 
function  of  perception,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  combines 
ideational  readjustment  with  control  by  the  apprehension  of 
results.  Here  the  important  consideration  is  that  in  its  genesis 
and  development  perception  is  a  process  of  sensing  and  later 
apprising  certain  significances  in  order  that  they  may  have 
their  weight  in  determining  the  true  nature  of  the  situation. 
It  is,  therefore,  founded  on  the  memory  that  retains  enough 
of  the  past  to  offer  conflicting  interpretations  of  certain  stimuli, 
and  thus  provoke  an  attentive  experimental  attitude  toward 
them.  With  the  increase  in  the  sensitiveness  of  memory,  the 
conflict  sharpens,  and  the  data  become  more  clearly  differ- 
entiated from  each  other.  This  clearness  promotes  mental 
comparison,  and  thus  favors  a  mental  decision  as  to  the  exact 
character  of  the  situation  and  the  proper  method  of  treating  it. 
Thus  the  development  of  perception  from  vague  interpreta- 
tions to  the  clear  apprehension  of  the  nature  of  the  things  per- 
ceived is  a  result  of  the  expansion  of  mental  resources  that 
springs  from  an  increase  in  the  sensitiveness  of  memory. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  interpretations  of  perception  are  for 
the  most  part  such  as  have  been  repeated  many  times,  and  so 
attached  to  their  sensory  cues  by  the  same  process  through 
which  habits  are  formed.  They  are  selected  interpretations, 
fragmentary  glimpses  of  the  things  to  which  they  refer.  They 
give  just  that  which  is  significant  in  the  determination  of  the 
proper  reaction  ;  just  what  can  be  utilized  in  provoking  hesi- 
tancy, alertness,  experimentation,  or  in  furthering  a  mental 

'§25. 


Conscious  Learning  221 

decision  as  to  the  classification  of  the  thing  which  enables 
successful  treatment  of  it.  The  clear  apprehension  of  these  in- 
terpretations is  a  consequence  not  only  of  the  grip  of  memory, 
but  also  of  concentration  of  attention,  of  discrimination,  of 
selection.  Perceptual  interpretation  may  be  ranked  among  the 
unqualified  abstractions.  Moreover,  it  is  this  abstract  char- 
acter that  enables  it  tc  be  seized  with  sufficient  distinctness  and 
associated  persistently  enough  with  its  sensory  cue  to  be  raised 
to  the  level  of  a  genuine  idea.  Thus  the  gradual  lifting  of  what 
is  at  first  a  mere  vague  awareness  into  clear  consciousness  is  a 
result  of  the  synthetic  activity  of  memory  and  the  analytic  ac- 
tivity of  selective  attention.  Each  agency  fosters  the  work 
of  the  other.  Saving  makes  possible  selection,  and  only  the 
selected  is  saved.  Only  by  selection  is  the  interpretation 
raised  into  that  conscious  clarity  which  enables  it  to  enter 
into  mental  comparisons  and  so  to  prove  itself  of  sufficient  use 
to  be  worthy  of  being  saved. 

It  is  not  likely  that  anything  resembling  clear-cut  perception  clear-cut  per- 
of  the  nature  of  things  appears  until  free  images  have  come 


into  consciousness.     So  long  as  mental  doubt  is  to  be  settled      imagina- 
by  an  appeal  to  new  perception,  corroborating  some  and  reject- 


ing  others  of  the  interpretations  suggested  for  the  situation, 
so  long  the  logic  of  this  process  remains  a  logic  of  felt  coherence, 
and  it  is  unnecessary  for  clearly  defined  ideas  such  as  can  be 
consciously  compared  to  appear.  The  perceptual  condition  of 
mind  is  not  one  of  clearly  defined  awareness  of  the  nature  of 
objects,  but  rather  one  of  vague  feelings  of  a  variety  of  motor 
cues  which  must  be  held  at  the  threshold  of  attention  until  that 
perception  appears  which  shall  by  felt  reenforcement  lift  one 
of  these  cues  into  the  control  of  attention.  When,  however, 
free  images  have  come  to  play  a  considerable  part  in  the  life 
of  consciousness,  perception,  doubtless,  is  for  the  first  time  able, 
by  comparison  with  these  images  and  the  reconstitution  of  its 


222 


Principles  of  Education 


Imagination 
as  based 
on  more 
sensitive 
memory 


interpretations  under  their  influence,  to  attain  the  sharpness 
of  conscious  definition  that  characterizes  the  perception  of 
man.  Thus  distinctness  comes  into  the  mental  life  because  of 
the  accumulation  of  material  by  which  conflict,  contrast,  and 
definition  are  made  possible.  In  turn,  this  definition,  this 
clearness  that  results  from  contrast  and  analysis,  is  itself  the 
mark  that  characterizes  material  now  gripped  by  the  mind  in 
such  a  form  as  to  constitute  a  genuine  resource  for  the  read- 
justments of  consciousness. 

Imagination  is  born  in  the  freeing  of  the  perceptual  inter- 
pretation from  its  dependence  upon  sensation.  The  mind  be- 
gins to  have  ideas  not  fused  directly  with  impressions  coming 
from  the  sense  organs,  but  only  indirectly  suggested  by  them. 
At  first  there  is  no  conscious  separation  of  perception  from 
image.  The  mind  is  not  aware  that  some  of  the  ideas  are  of 
things  actually  present  to  sense,  while  others  lack  this  quality. 
This  distinction  between  the  perception  and  the  image  is  a 
phase  of  the  development  of  judgment,  and  will  be  dealt  with 
later.  Here  we  may  note  that  images  are  a  product  of  a  more 
sensitive  memory  than  is  displayed  in  perceptual  interpreta- 
tion, and  that  this  memory  fills  the  mind  with  other  materials 
than  those  that  are  fused  with  sensation.  The  uncertainty  of 
a  doubtful  interpretation,  which  is  characteristic  of  perceptive 
consciousness,  is  supplemented  by  mind  wandering  among 
ideas  more  or  less  clearly  cognitive  of  these  interpretations  and 
their  conditions  and  results.  Instead  of  waiting  for  further 
perception  to  settle  the  issue  raised  by  doubtful  sensory  cues, 
the  mind  rushes  forward  to  anticipations  based  on  past  expe- 
rience, that  may,  when  they  are  compared,  either  make  possible 
a  decisive  interpretation  of  the  situation  without  further  ex- 
perimental perception,  or  at  least  hasten  and  abridge  this 
process. 

But  while  imagination  is  a  result  of  sensitive  memory,  it 


Conscious  Learning 


223 


fails  to  give,  at  any  rate  in  its  simpler  forms,  anything  like  a 
complete  representation  of  the  sense  qualities  of  any  object 
to  which  it  refers.  So  far  from  being  a  literal  recall  of  past 
experience,  reproductive  imagination  gives  only  a  partial  dis- 
torted representation.  This  character  is  due  to  several  causes. 
The  perceptions  from  which  the  images  are  derived  are  them- 
selves partial  and  more  or  less  inaccurate.  The  image  simply 
exaggerates  the  peculiarities  of  its  antecedent.  Moreover,  its 
variations  may  be  due  in  part  to  the  influence  of  the  context 
of  ideas  and  perceptions  in  which  it  is  recalled.  Association 
with  these  brings  about  both  abstraction  and  distortion  of  the 
original  mental  content,  which  imagination  is  said  to  reproduce. 
Again,  the  physiological  processes  underlying  imagination  may 
be  subject  to  change  because  of  modified  vital  conditions,  such 
as  nutrition,  disease,  etc.  In  fact,  what  is  known  as  reproduc- 
tive imagination  is  often  quite  as  much  a  variant  from  its  orig- 
inal as  though  it  were  what  we  call  constructive  or  creative 
imagination.1 

The  process  of  distortion  involved  in  reproductive  imagina- 
tion, so  far  from  being  a  mere  falling  away  from  the  accuracy 
and  clearness  of  perception,  is  in  point  of  fact  a  very  important 
condition  of  greater  clearness  and  accuracy,  not  only  in  ideas, 
but  also  in  perceptions  themselves.  Images  provoke  action, 
and,  if  they  are  inaccurate,  the  results  are  likely  to  be  unex- 
pected. In  that  event,  the  defectiveness  of  the  images  is  likely 
to  be  not  only  felt,  but  also  apprehended.  The  correction  of 
error  by  thought  comparisons  means  that  the  ideas  are  not 
merely  felt  to  be  wrong,  but  known  to  be  wrong  in  specific 
respects.  Thus  the  image  gains  in  accuracy  and  clearness. 
This  gain  is  reflected  into  perception,  which  acquires  a  new 
defmiteness,  correctness,  and  cognitive  quality.  The  inter- 
pretations that  in  their  original  fusion  with  sensation  were 
1  Compare  Ribot,  Essay  on  the  Creative  Imagination. 


The  image  a 
variant 
from  the 
original 
perception 


Such  varia- 
tion  pro- 
ductive   of 
further  dis- 
crimination 
and  sharp- 
ening of 
memory 


224  Principles  of  Education 

vague  and  unanalyzed  become  clear-cut  and  ideational  in  qual- 
ity. Thus  analysis,  although  it  seems  based  on  the  inaccuracies 
of  memory  in  its  work  of  literal  reproduction,  results  ultimately 
in  a  great  gain  in  the  clearness  and  accuracy  of  what  is  remem- 
bered. 
Resultant  jn  sucn  fashion  the  image,  in  spite  of  its  inaccuracies,  or 

enrichment  ...  .  . 

ofimagina-  perhaps  because  of  them,  constitutes  an  experiment  through 
tionand      which  we  learn  to  apprehend  clearly  the  truth.     Because  the 

memory  ... 

suggestions  of  imagination  are  merely  conjectures,  and  do 
not  always  or  even  usually  turn  out  safe  guides  to  action,  a 
process  of  reconstruction  is  set  up,  which  results  in  a  definition 
of  all  the  contents  of  consciousness,  with  an  extraordinary 
coincident  gain  in  cognitive  quality.  Perception  acquires  a 
background.  The  sensations  that  operate  as  its  suggestions 
become  overshadowed  by  the  definitely  apprehended  meanings 
that  cluster  about  them.  To  see  a  thing  means  now  to  have 
far  clearer  apprehension  of  its  visual  quality  than  the  eye 
unaided  by  imagination  is  capable  of  giving.  Not  only  this, 
but  perception  suffused  with  imagination  gains  a  background 
of  a  variety  of  sense  qualities  and  meanings,  each  the  result  of 
earlier  analysis  under  the  pressure  of  experimentation.  With 
this  background  a  perception  becomes  in  a  true  sense  the  per- 
ception of  a  thing;  that  is,  an  object  with  many  qualities  and 
relationships  and  significant  for  action  in  a  great  variety  of 
contingencies. 

Types  of  im-  The  distinction  between  different  types  of  imagination  is  a 
dffferenti-  result  of  a  logical  process  of  evaluation.  Mere  images  are 
ated  by  tested,  clarified,  and  corrected.  This  process  of  correction  is  a 

judgment 

phase  of  the  evolution  of  judgment.  With  the  development  of 
this  power  one  begins  to  distinguish  images  the  sources  and  the 
correctness  of  which  are  as  yet  undetermined  from  those  known 

1  Professor  Baldwin  discusses  this  thought  experimentation  and  its  results  in 
a  very  minute  way  in  Thought  and  Things. 


Conscious  Learning 


225 


to  represent  accurately  things  as  they  are,  have  been,  or  will 
be.  Further  analysis  sets  apart  images  known  to  reproduce 
the  past  experiences  of  the  self,  and  so  to  constitute  memories 
in  the  narrower  sense  of  that  term.  Images  known  not  to 
represent  facts  are  further  classified  according  to  whether  they 
represent  the  possible  or  the  probable,  or,  perhaps,  are  the  utter 
fiction  of  mere  fancy.  All  these  distinctions  and  many  more 
are  the  result  of  judgment  operative  upon  the  image.  In  itself, 
apart  from  its  reliability  and  use,  the  image  remains  a  mere 
variant  of  perception  cut  loose  from  dependence  upon  sensation. 
Imagination  enlarges  the  resources  of  thinking  by  fostering 
a  tendency  toward  variation,  by  clarifying  the  cognitive  states 
through  the  mental  comparisons  that  it  makes  not  only  possible 
but  necessary,  and  by  bringing  about  a  reconstruction  of  per- 
ception, enhancing  the  cognitive  quality  of  its  interpretations, 
and  enabling  an  organization  of  masses  of  content  about  the 
unity  of  the  thing  perceived.  This  work  of  reconstructing 
experience  into  the  fullness  and  the  accuracy  of  a  truthful 
account  of  reality  is  enormously  aided  by  the  development  of 
the  sense  of  relationship  into  distinct  existence  as  conception. 
Perception  and  imagination  contain  associations,  but  in  such 
forms  of  thought  these  associations  are  not  made  the  special 
object  of  distinguishing  consciousness.  They  are  merely  felt. 
Thus,  while  they  rule  the  course  of  thought  as  they  do  the  mech- 
anism of  habit,  their  presence  is  not  cognised,  and  so  the  reli- 
ability of  their  control  is  not  criticised.  When  once  these 
relationships  have  been  lifted  into  consciousness,  they  constitute 
an  addition  to  the  resources  of  thinking,  not  only  because  they 
are  a  new  phase  of  consciousness,  in  many  respects  more  val- 
uable in  controlling  action  than  either  perceptions  or  images, 
but  also  for  the  reason  that  they  are  a  tremendous  engine  for 
reconstructing  perceptions  and  images  into  richer,  more  reliable, 
and  more  available  materials  for  ideation. 
Q 


Conception 
an  aid  to 
the  recon- 
struction 
and  en- 
richment 
of  experi- 
ence 


226 


Principles  of  Education 


Conception 
a    revela- 
tion of  the 
dynamics 
of  con- 
sciousness. 


Relation- 
ships dis- 
tinguished 
into  psy- 
chological 
and  logical 


As  with  all  advances  in  the  realm  of  ideas,  the  consciousness 
of  relations  is  made  possible  because  of  more  sensitive  memory. 
The  materials  that  enter  into  consciousness  become  through 
this  agency  clearly  enough  defined  for  their  complicated  group- 
ings to  be  taken  into  account.  We  note  their  coexistences  and 
their  sequences,  their  likenesses  and  differences,  because 
we  can  remember  well  enough  to  recall  the  antecedents 
after  we  have  experienced  the  consequents.  These  group- 
ings govern  the  progress  of  thought,  and  hence  they  are 
determinative  of  the  action  dependent  on  the  outcome  of 
this  progress.  If  the  associations  are  reliable,  action  founded 
on  them  will  prove  successful.  False  associations  bring  failure. 
The  mind,  experimenting  with  the  effects  of  their  control,  be- 
comes aware  of  their  existence  and  significance  by  realizing 
the  bad  consequences  that  may  spring  from  them  when  they 
are  unreliable.  Thus  we  are  enabled  not  only  to  correct  the 
erroneous  grouping  of  ideas  and  the  corresponding  habit  of 
action,  but  also  to  add  to  our  stock  of  ideas  the  notion  of  the 
specific  associations  that  are  at  fault  and  those  that  are  correct. 
The  dynamics  of  consciousness  is  revealed  to  the  mind  that  is 
'governed  by  it,  and  such  self-consciousness  is  the  parent  of 
enlarged  power  over  the  processes  to  which  it  refers. 

The  concepts  of  the  mind  may  be  classified  in  a  great  variety 
of  ways.  We  have  abstract  and  concrete,  class  and  individual 
concepts.  We  have  those  fundamental  concepts  that  are 
called  the  categories  of  logic,  and  may  be  contrasted  with  the 
concepts  of  the  classes  and  things  that  are  ranged  under  them. 
For  our  purpose  it  may  prove  most  fruitful  to  divide  concepts 
into  those  of  psychological  and  those  of  logical  relationships. 
Psychological  relationship  is  the  dynamic  relationship  that 
actually  governs  the  course  of  ideas  in  the  mind  of  an  individ- 
ual. It  includes  the  relationships  of  habit,  of  similarity,  or  of 
any  other  sort,  provided  these  exert  a  controlling  influence 


Conscious  Learning 


227 


upon  the  process  of  thinking.  Logical  relationship  is  any 
relationship  that  may  be  detected  among  objects  (or  the  corre- 
sponding ideas)  by  a  comparing  mind.  The  logical  relation- 
ships are  indefinite  in  number.  They  include  likeness,  dif- 
ference, and  all  the  relationships  of  quality,  number  and  all 
the  relationships  of  quantity,  the  relationships  of  dependence 
and  interdependence,  the  relationships  of  thought  to  reality. 
In  short,  there  is  no  relationship  that  may  not  be  made  the 
object  of  comparing  intelligence.  Hence  the  logical  relation- 
ships include  the  psychological  ones,  for  thought  may  appre- 
hend the  principles  that  govern  its  course.  Endowed  with  a 
retentiveness  that  enables  it  to  preserve  some  notion  of  the 
experiences  that  are  drifting  into  the  past,  it  saves  itself  from 
mere  submergence  in  the  present  moment.  It  lifts  a  section 
of  its  own  experience  before  its  attention.  It  reflects  upon  its 
own  procedure,  and  in  so  doing  the  psychological  relationships 
are  made  the  object  of  consciousness.  They  become  logical. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  important  question  arises,  Can  the 
logical  relationships  become  psychological  ?  Can  the  course 
of  thought  be  influenced  by  all  the  various  interconnections 
that  a  reflective  consciousness  discovers  to  exist  among  objects, 
and  so  in  some  sense  among  the  ideas  that  represent  them. 
Professor  James  declares  that  in  so  far  as  the  order  of  conscious- 
ness is  determined,  not  by  the  order  in  which  the  sense  impres- 
sions appear,  but  by  some  inner  principle  of  association,  the 
sole  controlling  factor  is  habit.1  Among  the  principles  of  inter- 
connection worked  out  by  the  English  Associationists  he  admits 
only  one,  that  of  association  by  contiguity  in  time,  as  having 
any  real  domination  over  psychological  processes. 

At  the  outset  of  the  discussion  of  this  issue,  it  may  be  well 
to  recognize  the  fact  that  the  possibility  of  ideational  read- 
justment rests  on  the  capacity  of  logical  relationships  to  dis- 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  Vol.  I,  Ch.  XIV. 


Psychological 
relation- 
ships can 
be    made 
logical 


Can  logical 
relation- 
ships  be- 
come psy- 
chological ? 


228  Principles  of  Education 

ideationai       integrate  and  reorganize  thought  and  so  to  substitute  their 
order  for  the  mere  successions  and  coexistences  of  habit.     If 


pendent  on  habits  of  thought  cannot  thus  be  reconstructed,  then  cognitive 

the  recon-  .  .  .  . 

structkm      consciousness  is  left  without  a  function.     It  is  a  mere  useless 


°f  10lc        appendage,  of  no  assistance  to  feeling  and  impulse  in  the  process 


logical  re-  of  learning.  All  learning  remains  mere  learning  by  trial  and 
s  lps  error.  Ideationai  experimentation  and  selection  depends  on 
the  ability  to  break  away  to  some  extent  from  habit,  both  as 
regards  the  mental  resources  and  the  judgment  as  to  their 
availability.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  in  assuming  con- 
scious learning  to  be  a  fact,  one  of  necessity  is  involved  in  the 
belief  that  the  logical  relationship,  which  it  is  the  function  of 
mental  activity  to  bring  more  and  more  clearly  to  the  front, 
should  become  incorporated  in  the  mechanism  by  which  the 
attention  is  seized  and,  in  consequence,  the  progress  of  thought 
and  action  determined. 

Partial  re-  Professor  James  admits  something  of  the  same  sort  when  he 
lustration11"  discusses  what  he  calls  partial  recall.  Of  the  total  context 
of  such  re-  of  thought  at  any  moment,  one  element,  he  affirms,  may  pre- 
tion3  n  dominate  over  others  in  suggesting  power.  Thus  the  mere 
mechanical  agencies  of  habit  are  replaced  by  preferences, 
interests  that  seem  to  spring  from  the  mind  itself.  This  pref- 
erential activity  becomes  operative  upon  the  material  that  the 
dynamic  associations  of  consciousness  have  caused  to  appear 
in  such  a  context  that  mental  comparison  of  their  relationships 
becomes  possible.  Habit  drags  many  things  before  attention. 
Judgment  enters  in  to  arrange  them,  to  evaluate  them,  and  to 
assign  to  each  its  relative  value  in  determining  the  further 
course  of  thought.  The  relations  that  govern  judgment, 
and  that  are  by  it  brought  to  the  front,  are  logical  relation- 
ships. Once  fixed  by  attention,  they  become  active  forces, 
undermining  old  habits  of  thought  if  they  be  illogical,  and 
replacing  them  by  new  ones.  Thus  they  become  what  we  have 


Conscious  Learning 


229 


called  psychological  or  dynamic  relationships.  What  the 
mechanism  of  habit  brings  into  the  mind,  the  logical  activity 
of  thought  passes  in  review.  Only  that  which  survives  this 
selective  process  can  continue  as  effective  habit.  The  psy- 
chological associations  determine  what  resources  shall  through 
suggestion  be  called  into  the  mind.  The  logical  associations 
determine  which  of  these  resources  are  fitly  called.  The  rejec- 
tion of  any  tends  to  eliminate  the  association  by  which  it  was 
suggested.  Hence  the  only  associations  that  can  remain  are 
those  that  stand  the  test  of  logic.  Through  their  selective 
activity  the  logical  associations  make  sure  that  the  psycholog- 
ical associations  shall  correspond  to  themselves. 

It  may  be  objected  that  if  we  define  logical  relationship  as  Approved 
any  relationship  apprehended  to  exist  between  objects,  it  in- 
cludes both  relations  of  coherence  and  those  of  incoherence. 
It  is  the  business  of  judgment  to  banish  the  latter  out  of  con- 
sciousness and  not  to  install  them  in  control.  Hence  not  all 
logical  relationships,  but  only  those  that  are  valid,  are  con- 
verted by  ideation  into  psychological  relationships.  This  view 
is  undoubtedly  true,  and  it  is  evident  that  we  have  here  an 
ambiguous  use  of  the  word  "  logical."  We  mean  by  it  something 
contrasted  with  the  non-logical,  i.e.  that  which  is  not  made 
the  object  of  attentive  consciousness.  Again  we  may  contrast 
the  logical  with  the  illogical,  or  that  which  reflection  cannot 
approve  or  abide.  To  avoid  possible  misunderstanding,  it 
may  be  well  to  say  that  only  such  apprehended  relationships  as 
are  logical  in  the  sense  of  being  approved  by  judgment  can  as 
a  result  of  reflection  be  made  to  eliminate  or  modify  earlier 
habits  of  thought. 

The  awareness  of  relationships  as  distinct  from  the  things 
related,  or  conception,  is  thus  a  tremendous  force  for  the  reor- 
ganization of  the  associations  among  ideas.  These  regroup- 
ings mean  new  comparisons,  new  analyses.  Moreover,  each 


logical 
relation- 
ships alone 
possessed 
of  recon- 
structing 
power  over 
habit 


230 


Principles  of  Education 


The  concept 

teriaTfrom 
which  effec- 


are  con- 

structed 


Conception 


ory:  (i)  by 

escaping 

exceptions; 

structin°n" 
thought 


analysis  means  the  distinguishing  not  of  an  isolated  but  of  a 
rating  factor,  a  concept.  The  concept  is  singled  out  because 
of  its  apparent  validity,  universality,  and  fundamental  char- 
acter.  It  represents  an  association  that  claims  logical  coher- 
ence  an(j  \^\.  survives  for  a  time  the  verifying  test  of  repeated 
experiences.  It  is  abstracted  because  it  occurs  in  many  con- 
texts and  is  a  point  of  stability  in  all.  This  universality  is 
correlated  closely  with  the  quality  of  being  fundamental, 
or  that  from  which  many  things  can  be  derived.  The  analysis 
of  a  mass  of  concrete  experiences  into  detailed  relationships 
means  reducing  them  to  forms  which  can  be  used  in  the  great- 
est variety  of  new  combinations  because  they  are  sound,  co- 
herent, and  fundamental.  The  greater  the  variety  of  colors 
and  color  properties  .an  artist  has  learned  to  distinguish,  the 
greater  his  resources  in  the  elaboration  of  new  effects.  The 
greater  the  knowledge  of  mechanical  laws  and  devices  pos- 
sessed by  an  inventor,  the  richer  the  suggestions  that  rise  in  his 
mind  when  a  new  mechanical  problem  is  presented  to  him  to 
solve.  So,  too,  the  brilliancy  and  originality  of  a  philosophical 
system  rests  on  the  analysis  of  experience  into  philosophical 
concepts,  which  can  then  be  woven  together  into  new  syn- 
theses. As  Hegel  contends,  new  systems  are  always  compro- 
mises, but  compromises  that  are  truly  synthetic  and,  therefore, 
original.  If  a  writer  would  increase  his  power  of  invention  in 
regard  to  personality,  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  begin  by 
analyzing  the  characters  that  he  meets. 

Conception  further  enlarges  resources  by  strengthening  the 
memory  upon  which  it  itself  is  founded.  Recall  depends  upon 
what  we  have  called  psychological  associations.  We  have 

° 

seen  that  reflection  destroys  such  of  those  as  cannot  meet  its 
l°S*cal  tests,  thus  reconstructing  the  dynamic  groupings  of 
consciousness.  But  these  reconstructed  coherent  associa- 
tions are  far  more  powerful  agents  of  recall  than  the  associa- 


Conscious  Learning  231 

tions  of  mere  habit.  Logical  memory  outstrips  in  effective- 
ness that  which  is  merely  mechanical.  Its  associative  links 
are  not  constantly  attacked  and  undermined  by  critical 
thought.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  constantly  being  strength- 
ened by  use  in  other  connections.  Moreover,  they  are  coherent 
with  other  associations.  They  join  with  them  in  the  organi- 
zation of  systems  of  thought  where  each  item  strengthens  the 
grip  of  memory  on  all  the  rest,  as  in  a  well-built  arch  the  weight 
of  each  stone  strengthens  the  stability  of  the  whole  structure. 
To  change  the  figure,  we  may  compare  such  systems  of  thought 
to  great  buildings  held  together  by  steel  frames.  As  the 
strength  of  such  edifices  is  dependent  upon  the  strength  of  the 
frame  and  the  manner  in  which  it  binds  the  structure  together, 
so  the  grip  of  memory  upon  a  thought  is  dependent  upon  the 
clearness  and  coherence  of  the  concepts  by  which  this  is 
organized. 

The  notion  of  a  self  with  a  consistent  history,  involving  illustration 
physical  appearance,  habitat,  occupation,  family,  character,  ^  ^  ™°~ 
and  so  fitting  in  at  every  angle,  not  only  to  other  facts  of  the 
self  but  also  to  those  of  the  world  outside,  is  an  example  of  such 
a  thought  system.  So  strong  a  grip  does  it  possess  upon  the 
details  which  it  organizes  that  by  its  logic  it  can  often  supply 
any  gap  that  the  memory  of  habit  may  be  unable  to  fill.  In- 
deed, the  memory  of  a  reflective  consciousness  consists  largely 
of  things  that  it  knows  must  have  happened  or  must  be  so.  As 
the  child  grows  to  maturity  this  sort  of  memory  grows  stronger, 
and,  in  consequence,  memory  in  general  increases  in  power 
in  spite  of  a  probable  loss  in  mere  mechanical  power  to  retain. 

The  organizing  and  reconstructive  power  that  springs  from  Language 
ideas  of  relations  receives  remarkable  illustration  when  these     ^tivTof 
ideas  are  associated  with  words.     The  topic  of  language  will     the  values 
be  treated  in  a  special  chapter.     Here,  however,  it  may  be  noted     t;on 
that  words  are  of  enormous  assistance  in  enabling  us  to  single 


232  Principles  of  Education 

out  the  relations  that  it  is  of  importance  for  us  to  consider  and 
to  retain.  Moreover,  through  recombinations  of  the  elements 
thus  distinguished,  it  becomes  possible  for  us  to  accumulate 
an  enormous  fund  of  new  experience  from  others.  Our  re- 
sources are  thus  increased  by  the  experience  of  society.  The 
memory  of  the  individual  is  supplemented  by  the  memory  of 
the  race.  Written  language,  by  recording  an  account  of  indi- 
vidual experiences  as  they  take  place,  preserves  an  accurate 
description  of  an  immense  amount  of  material  that  would 
otherwise  be  lost  or  distorted.  Thus  history  and  science 
become  possible,  the  words  together  with  the  relations  they 
express  drawing  together  in  one  enormous  system  of  available 
material  practically  all  of  the  significant  experience  of  the  race. 

The  "silent  The  physiological  basis  of  these  ideas  of  relation  is  to  be 
the^or  ans  f°und  in  what  are  called  the  association  areas  of  the  brain, 
of  concep-  These  occupy  about  two  thirds  of  the  cortex  of  the  hemispheres, 
and  constitute  what  have  been  called  the  "silent  areas." 
Thus  the  larger  part  of  that  portion  of  the  brain  which  is  cor- 
related with  consciousness  is  devoted  to  the  formation  of  con- 
nections. These  connections  go  not  singly  but  rather  in  groups, 
giving  systems  of  thought  and  coordinations  of  movement. 
However,  the  analysis  and  isolation  of  the  elemental  associa- 
tions is  necessary,  if  one  is  to  reorganize  them  readily.  More- 
over, such  ready  reorganization  means,  as  we  have  seen,  cog- 
nition of  the  factors  involved.  Hence  the  silent  areas  must 
concern  themselves  not  only  in  associatifig,  but  also  in  think- 
ing about  associations;  that  is,  in  conception.  The  forma- 
tion and  use  of  ideas  of  relation  may,  therefore,  not  inappro- 
priately be  called  the  principal  function  of  the  human  brain. 

Summary  To  recapitulate,  the  evolution  of  ideas  sums  itself  up  in  the 

three  phases  of  perceptual  interpretation,  imagination,  and 
ideas  of  relation,  or  concepts.  In  this  expansion  of  power 
two  factors  are  everywhere  in  evidence ;  first,  increase  in  sen- 


Conscious  Learning  233 

sitiveness  of  memory,  in  sheer  power  to  retain  and  recall ; 
second,  cognitive  selection,  which  in  the  field  of  perception 
and  imagination  is  commonly  called  discrimination,  and  in 
that  of  conception,  analysis  and  abstraction.  As  memory 
grows  stronger,  the  mind  is  more  and  more  apt  to  have  conflict- 
ing impulses  or  interpretations  in  response  to  the  suggestions 
of  sense.  Herein  lies  the  condition  of  perception.  The  idea- 
tional  selection  of  the  proper  one  among  these  conflicting 
elements  means  at  first  merely  the  corroborating  or  eliminat- 
ing effect  of  further  experimental  perceptions.  This  process 
is  brought  to  greater  perfection  as  the  interpretations  with 
which  it  deals  become  more  sharply  discriminated.  The  clear 
awareness  of  the  perceptual  elements  is  forced  upon  us  because 
of  the  necessity  of  discriminating  such  of  them  as  are  critical 
in  determining  the  reactions  that  may  be  used  in  new  situations 
or  such  data  as  serve  in  a  variety  of  emergencies  to  identify 
various  specific  factors,  the  proper  treatment  of  each  of  which 
is  known.  To  recognize,  to  classify,  to  diagnose,  one  must 
have  a  cognitive  account  of  defining  characteristics,  and  the 
clearer  this  account,  the  more  effective  it  is  in  recognition. 
But  this  cognitive  account  is  a  selected,  a  discriminated  one. 
It  is  saved  from  confusion  by  being  separated  from  the  mass 
of  vague  interpretations  with  which  it  is  at  first  associated. 
Its  practical  value  as  a  guide  for  action  leads  it  to  be  differen- 
tiated by  an  act  of  attention,  and  this  separation  raises  it  into 
clearer  consciousness  than  before. 

Little  by  little  such  of  the  various  interpretations  of  sensa- 
tion as  need  to  be  used  in  recognition  are  subjected  to  this 
process  of  clarification  through  selective  discrimination.  This 
work  is  especially  favored  by  the  rise  of  imagination.  The 
free  image  is  a  result  both  of  memory  which  holds  many  things 
in  mind  besides  the  interpretation  of  the  sensations  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  also  of  a  fairly  clear  cognition  of  this  free  material. 


234  Principles  of  Education 

Since  many  clear-cut  and  conflicting  images  cannot  be  fused 
with  present  sensation,  they  must  needs  be  apprehended  as 
free  ideas.  But  the  accumulation  of  imaginative  material 
means  more  opportunity  for  ideational  conflicts  and  selections, 
and  so  further  sharpness  of  contrast  among  ideas,  further 
classification  of  cognitive  material.  This  enhanced  distinct- 
ness in  images  reacts  upon  the  perceptive  states,  substituting 
for  vague  interpretations  a  clear  cognitive  apprehension  of 
things  and  their  qualities.  Red  is  never  so  red  as  when  the 
image  comes  to  the  support  of  the  sensation.  Imagination 
reconstructs  perception ;  selective  discrimination  sharpens 
and  so  reconstructs  both  ;  and  memory  furnishes  the  materials 
upon  which  selective  discrimination  works. 

As  the  materials  of  imagination  become  richer  in  quantity 
and  clearness,  comparison  is  able  to  do  more  than  simply  to 
cognize  contrasted  sense  quality.  The  relations  of  these  sense 
qualities  become  sufficiently  in  evidence  to  be  distinguished. 
One  remembers  well  enough  to  compare  comparisons  and  to 
apprehend  likeness  of  relationship  where  there  is  unlikeness 
of  content  related,  or  unlikeness  of  relationship  where  content 
remains  the  same.  These  relationships  are  abstracted  and 
compared  with  each  other.  They  are  evaluated,  and  such  as 
stand  well  the  test  operate  to  reorganize  selectively  the  psy- 
chological connections  that  govern  the  course  of  thought. 
Reflection,  working  upon  materials  brought  before  it  by  the 
dynamic  force  of  habit,  discovers  logical  principles  that  com- 
pel such  habits  of  thought  as  fail  to  meet  their  requirements 
to  disappear.  Thus  the  course  of  thought  is  reconstructed  ac- 
cording to  logical  principles,  —  principles  that  are  reiterated, 
supplemented,  and  interconnected  until  they  constitute  a 
grip  upon  their  material  that  is  well-nigh  inexorable.  The 
memory  of  habit  is  enormously  strengthened.  Indeed,  where 
habitual  memory  fails,  we  are  able  to  reconstruct  our  pasts, 


Conscious  Learning  235 

filling  our  memories  with  what  we  know  must  have  taken  place. 
Language,  oral  and  written,  comes  to  our  assistance,  and  the 
systems  of  thought  which  through  the  binding  and  reconstruct- 
ing force  of  conception  the  individual  has  been  able  to  build 
up  in  his  own  peculiar  experience  are  enlarged  to  include  the 
experience  of  the  race.  The  ideational  resources  of  the  indi- 
vidual come  to  correspond  to  those  of  society. 

SECTION  28.    The  evolution  of  judgment 

The  evolution  of  judgment,  as  distinguished  from  that  of  Preliminary 
ideas,  is  essentially  a  matter  of  becoming  conscious  of  the 
process  of  ideational  readjustment,  with  a  consequent  addition  »n  judg- 
to  its  effectiveness.  One  comes  to  realize  what  thinking  is  and 
means,  and  as  a  result  thinks  better.  To  become  rational  many 
factors  and  processes  must  be  made  the  subject  of  attention. 
As  we  have  seen,  one  must  make  the  distinction  between  mere 
plans  of  action  and  the  standards  to  which  these  must  be  sub- 
mitted. The  standards  themselves  must  be  ranged  in  the 
order  of  their  relative  importance,  and  the  principles  by  which 
they  are  brought  to  bear  upon  plans  exploited.  Again,  the 
reasoning  attitudes  must  be  brought  before  the  focus  of  atten- 
tion. One  must  realize  the  importance  of  experimentation 
both  in  thought  and  action,  if  one  is  to  get  adequate  material 
upon  which  judgment  may  be  exercised.  One  must  become 
critical;  that  is,  aware  of  the  importance  of  caution  and  delib- 
eration in  making  up  one's  mind. 

The  process  of  ideational  readjustment  may  be  said  to  take  ideational 
two  forms:    First,  ideas  may  inhibit  or  reenforce  each  other; 


second,    they  may   combine   with   and   modify   each   other.  b.y 

Ideas  are  inhibited  by  being  banished  from  the  attention,  very  enforce- 

much  as  impulses  are  eliminated  when  their  results  are  unsatis-  ment  of 

1  impulses  ; 

factory.     The  perception  or  the  idea  of  a  disagreeable  conse- 


236 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  by  syn- 
thesis of 
impulses 


Conflict  of 
physical 
impulses 
the    fore- 
runner of 
ideational 
struggle 


quence  that  may  be  supposed  to  follow  the  carrying  out  of  a 
certain  idea  will  tend  to  rob  it  of  motive  force ;  or,  what  is 
the  same  thing,  to  drive  it  from  attention.  Similarly,  when 
the  perceived  or  thought  consequence  is  agreeable,  the  sug- 
gesting idea  will  be  confirmed  in  the  possession  of  attention, 
at  any  rate  until  it  initiates  action,  and  further  developments 
make  necessary  new  thought  and  action.  If  one  were  enter- 
taining the  thought  of  calling  upon  a  friend,  the  perception 
that  he  was  passing  along  the  street  might  inhibit  or  corrob- 
orate one's  purpose  according  to  whether  the  friend  were  going 
toward  or  away  from  his  home.  Again,  the  perception  that 
his  friend  was  going  away  from  home  might  not  destroy  the 
purpose  of  meeting  him,  but  merely  modify  the  method  of 
realizing  it.  Instead  of  going  to  the  friend's  home,  one  might 
go  to  the  place  whither  he  is  supposed  to  be  bound.  Here  we 
would  have  an  illustration  of  the  synthesis  of  mental  data, 
with  a  corresponding  coordination  of  movements.  Both  forms 
of  ideational  readjustment  are  constantly  illustrated  in  per- 
ceptual control.  Moreover,  the  higher  mental  processes  may 
be  analyzed  into  similar  inhibitions,  reinforcements,  or  corre- 
lations. The  idea  of  a  new  related  datum  may  affect  a  pur- 
pose quite  as  much  as  the  perception  of  a  new  fact.  One's 
purpose  to  call  on  a  friend  will  persist,  disappear,  or  be  modi- 
fied by  the  thought  of  the  possible  or  probable  movements  of 
the  friend  during  the  day. 

The  forerunner  of  ideational  resolution  or  readjustment  is 
to  be  found  in  the  conflicts  and  reinforcements  of  many  mus- 
cular movements  set  in  motion  simultaneously.  We  have 
seen  that  the  primary  condition  of  readjustment  is  inhibition 
of  some  movements  in  order  that  others  may  be  experimented 
with.  Such  inhibition  may,  however,  be  only  partial,  and 
the  new  movements  may  not  be  suffered  to  usurp  absolutely 
the  control  of  the  body.  Partial  inhibition  means  the  possi- 


Conscious  Learning 


237 


by  the  feel- 
ing of  re- 
sults to 
control  by 
the  antici- 
pation of 
these 


bility  of  many  conflicting  impulses.  The  arm  and  hand  of  Cran- 
mer,  thrust  into  the  flames  in  order  that  it  may  be  consumed 
before  the  rest  of  his  body,  is  not  mildly  compliant  to  the  will 
of  the  sufferer.  It  is  tense  with  the  conflict  of  muscles  which 
are  commanded  by  various  stimuli  to  do  very  different  things. 
Such  movements  may,  however,  tend  not  to  destroy  each  other 
but  to  combine,  as  in  the  coordinations  of  balancing,  walking,  rid- 
ing a  bicycle,  etc.  Here  many  movements  are  aroused  and  enter 
into  interplay,  with  the  result  that  none  is  ultimately  banished, 
but  an  adjustment  is  reached  in  which  each  performs  a  service. 

The  final  outcome  of  such  intramuscular  struggle  is,  of  course,  From  control 
under  the  control  of  the  feeling  and  the  apprehension  of  results. 
Where  cognition  has  little  material  by  which  a  suitable  synthe- 
sis of  movements  can  be  worked  out  beforehand,  the  various 
impulses  are  not  very  effectively  inhibited,  but  rather  are  per- 
mitted to  work  out  their  own  destiny  in  the  overt  results. 
When,  however,  ideas  become  more  in  evidence,  the  progress 
of  impulses  into  movement  tends  more  and  more  to  be  checked. 
These  impulses  flow  into  ideas,  which  struggle  toward  a  read- 
justment that  may  constitute  a  basis  for  a  fairly  effective  coor- 
dination of  movement.  Thus,  as  blind  experimentation  be- 
comes replaced  more  and  more  by  ideational  experimentation, 
specific  stimuli  become  in  new  situations  less  and  less  likely  to 
result  in  immediate  movements.  One  ceases  to  be  impulsive, 
and  grows  thoughtful,  deliberate,  at  any  rate  when  one  is  deal- 
ing with  an  emergency.  However,  the  study  of  involuntary 
movements  shows  that  we  probably  never  reach  a  state  in 
which  impulses  get  no  immediate  expression  in  movements. 
The  tendency  toward  speech  as  we  carry  on  a  train  of  thought 
is  evidence  of  the  strength  of  the  primal  association  between 
muscles  and  any  disturbance  in  the  nervous  system. 

We  have  already  treated  perceptual  control  as  involving 
a  transition  from    the    selection    of   impulses   by  feeling  of 


238 


Principles  of  Education 


Alertness  as 
indicative 
of  the  be- 
ginning of 
ideational 
control 


Internal 
factors  af- 
fecting the 
result  of 
the  strug- 
gle of  in- 
terpreta- 
tions 


results  to  selection  by  cognitive  anticipation  of  these.  The 
characteristics  of  the  perceptual  state  may  be  summed  up  as 
follows:  Inhibition  of  impulses  combines  with  clearer  cogni- 
tion to  bring  about  a  mental  conflict  of  interpretations,  a  sense 
of  ambiguity  or  uncertainty  concerning  the  nature  of  the  sit- 
uation and  the  proper  response.  The  outcome  of  this  is  alert- 
ness, which  is  directed  toward  any  data  that  may  clear  up  the 
ambiguity.  Such  data  may  come  from  the  development  of 
the  situation,  the  mere  progress  of  events,  while  the  perceiving 
animal  remains  observant,  but  otherwise  passive.  They  may, 
however,  be  sought  by  experimental  movements,  the  aim  of 
which  is  to  obtain  material  for  an  ideational  resolution  of  the 
ambiguities  involved.  The  data  thus  gathered  together  inter- 
act in  the  ways  just  described.  The  suggestions  that  spring 
from  them  corroborate  each  other,  or  render  each  other  unten- 
able, or,  perhaps,  combine  to  suggest  an  interpretation  in 
which  the  presence  of  each  is  recognizable. 

In  addition  to  the  data  furnished  by  the  external  senses, 
other  factors  springing  from  within  the  organism  cooperate  to 
determine  the  outcome  of  the  mental  process  we  are  consider- 
ing. Temperament,  feeling,  habit,  all  tend  to  sway  the  inter- 
pretation in  the  directions  that  they  favor.  A  hungry  animal 
would  prefer  for  a  doubtful  case  the  interpretation,  food, 
rather  than  any  other.  An  animal  timid,  either  from  disposi- 
tion or  from  temporary  condition,  will  incline  toward  an  inter- 
pretation that  smacks  of  danger.  After  the  external  senses 
have  given  all  the  evidence  that  one  can  expect  from  them, 
there  still  remains  in  many  cases  several  possible  interpreta- 
tions for  an  object,  each  of  which  fits  one  of  a  number  of 
possible  internal  conditions  of  the  perceiving  organism. 
What  sort  of  a  being  a  man  is  to  a  wolf  depends  very  much 
on  the  way  the  wolf  feels  at  the  time,  or  what  sort  of  a  wolf 
it  may  chance  to  be. 


Conscious  Learning 


239 


The  struggle  among  interpretations  in  perception  is  essen- 
tially a  struggle  for  the  control  of  attention.  The  attention 
cannot  concentrate  except  by  eliminating  all  save  coherent 
interpretations.  The  correlation  of  data  that  perception 
seeks  is  a  felt  coherence,  not  a  distinctly  apprehended  one.  Its 
logic  is  therefore  the  logic  of  feeling  and  habit.  The  feeling 
involved  is  that  third  type  which  we  have  described1  as  ac- 
companying the  struggle  of  impulses  or  ideas.  So  long  as  the 
conflict  remains,  one  feels  uncomfortable.  Pleasure  springs 
from  reconciliation,  from  concentration.  The  feeling  of  co- 
herence is  partly  a  toleration  of  interpretations  that  have 
habitually  gone  together  without  misdirecting  action  in  appre- 
ciable ways,  partly  a  dawning  sense  of  logical  coherence  that 
may  replace  or  corroborate  the  synthesis  of  habit.  The  feeling 
of  logical  coherence  cannot  get  an  opportunity  to  display 
much  if  any  influence  on  the  course  of  thought  unless  the 
paths  of  habit  are  checked.  It  is  in  the  ideation  which  follows 
such  a  check  that  the  vague  sense  of  logical  relationship  which 
we  have  called  the  logic  of  feeling  gets  a  chance  to  disintegrate 
and  reconstruct  the  associations  of  habit. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  distinguish  sharply  three  lines 
along  which  judgment  develops.  They  are  as  follows :  (i) 
the  growth  of  the  attitude  of  mental  experimentation  ;  (2)  the 
growth  of  evaluated  and  evaluating  thought  material ;  (3)  the 
growth  of  the  critical  attitude.  The  attitude  of  mental  ex- 
perimentation is  that  which  we  have  described  as  originality. 
It  is  the  attitude  which  throws  one  into  the  position  of  accu- 
mulating material  for  ideational  readjustment.  The  first 
form  of  such  experimental  activity  we  have  described  as  re- 
lated to  perception,  although  it  extends  to  reasoning  as  well. 
It  is  activity  roused  in  doubtful  or  new  situations,  and  directed 
toward  obtaining  new  sense  data  by  which  the  nature  of  the 

1  Compare  §  24. 


The  control 
of  atten- 
tion by  the 
logic  of 
habit  and 
feeling 


Three  factors 
in  the 
growth  of 
judgment, 
(i)  Growth 
of  mental 
experimen- 
tation.   Its 
relation  to 
originality. 
The  search 
for  new 
sense  data 


240 


Principles  of  Education 


The  search 
for  rele- 
vant ideas 


Relation  of 
originality 
to  cogni- 
tive re- 
sources 
and  to  the 
critical 
attitude 


situation  and  the  proper  response  may  be  discovered.  One 
moves  about,  thus  gaining  a  different  point  of  view.  A  variety 
of  senses  are  brought  to  bear  upon  the  situation.  One  may 
seek  the  point  of  view  of  others  as  indicated  by  their  actions. 
Indeed,  the  first  resort  of  the  socially  dependent  being  is  to 
the  interpretations  of  authoritative  companions. 

Such  experimentation  becomes  supplemented  by  the  activity 
of  imagination  and  reason.  These  powers  surround  the  appre- 
hension of  the  situation  by  a  multitude  of  ideas  that  are  di- 
vorced from  present  sensations  and  may  be  only  remotely 
associated  therewith.  The  interrelations  of  such  material 
enable  one  to  arrive  at  results  which  reflect  upon  the  present 
situation  such  meaning  as  to  enable  a  decision  about  the  proper 
mode  of  treating  it.  The  attitude  that  summons  forth  such 
material  is  just  as  truly  an  experimental  one  as  is  that  which 
stimulates  the  search  for  new  sense  data.  Indeed,  the  two 
attitudes  ordinarily  combine.  One  thinks  out  reflectively 
such  consequences  of  a  certain  interpretation  as  may  be  tested 
by  critical  observations  of  the  senses.  My  friend  whom  I 
wish  to  interview  is  found  to  be  away  from  home.  I  wonder 
where  he  has  gone,  and  call  up  among  others  the  conjecture 
that  he  is  bound  for  a  certain  railroad  station.  This  idea 
satisfies  my  sense  of  coherence.  I  recall  further  that  my 
friend's  office  lies  on  the  way  to  the  station,  and  that  he  is  likely 
to  drop  in  there  as  he  passes.  It  then  occurs  to  me  that  I 
may  catch  him  there  by  telephoning.  This  I  do,  and  thus 
resort  to  a  sensory  test  to  verify  or  overthrow  the  conclusions 
of  mere  thought. 

The  attitude  that  favors  the  resort  to  new  sensations  or 
ideas  in  the  endeavor  to  experiment  toward  a  solution  of  an 
emergency  is  the  attitude  of  originality.  It  becomes  more 
active  as  one  becomes  conscious  of  the  value  of  such  experi- 
mentation and  accustomed  to  resort  to  it.  Originality  bears, 


Conscious  Learning 


241 


of  course,  the  closest  relation,  on  the  one  hand,  to  cognitive  re- 
sources and,  on  the  other,  to  the  critical  attitude  that  by  its 
dissatisfactions  forces  readjustment.  The  attitude  of  mental 
experiment  is  favored  by  such  an  organization  of  resources  as 
promotes  recall.  Hence  the  organization  of  experience  by 
selective  correlating  processes,  since  it  associates  this  material 
in  permanent,  logical,  and  practically  useful  ways,  is  an  im- 
portant asset  of  originality.  Nothing,  however,  can  defi- 
nitely replace  that  attitude  of  mental  adventure,  or  unrest,  of 
desire  to  know  as  well  as  to  do  and  to  be  mentally  as  well  as 
physically  active,  without  which  the  resources  and  the  sense 
of  the  emergency  would  fail  of  producing  their  most  fruitful 
results. 

The  second  factor  that  contributes  to  the  rise  of  judgment 
is  the  growth  of  evaluating  materials.  The  perceptions  and 
ideas  that  come  into  the  mind  must  range  themselves  accord- 
ing to  reliability  and  desirability,  and  we  must  become  con- 
scious of  these  values,  the  reasons  for  assigning  them,  and  the 
logical  methods  by  which  the  comparisons  and  syntheses  of 
ideational  readjustment  are  brought  about. 

The  consciousness  of  values  may  be  said  to  begin  with  the 
mere  sense  of  the  newness  of  certain  situations  which  stimulates 
mental  activity  in  regard  to  them.  As  one's  power  to  feel  and 
to  cognize  the  unusual  grows,  he  becomes  capable  of  initiating 
thought  processes  without  waiting  for  the  rough  shocks  of 
failure  that  come  from  reacting  to  these  situations  automat- 
ically. The  consciousness  of  the  new,  the  strange,  is  the  sim- 
plest form  of  the  standard.  It  means  that  which  as  yet  is  un- 
certain, unsolved,  —  the  problematic  as  contrasted  with  the 
habitual.  The  train  of  thought  provoked  by  the  apprehen- 
sion of  an  emergency  is  apt  to  involve  perceptions  or  ideas 
which  are  fairly  familiar  and  suggest  responses  that  are  in  a 
measure  habitual.  At  first  the  determination  of  which  of 


(2)    Growth 
of  evalu- 
ated and 
evaluating 
ideas 


The  sense  of 
novelty  as 
the  simplest 
form  of  the 
standard 


242  Principles  of  Education 

these  ideas  shall  gain  the  upper  hand  and  control  action  is 
largely  a  matter  of  habit  and  feeling.  Moreover,  the  re- 
sources of  thinking  are  at  first  so  meager  that  such  ideas  as 
appear  are  likely  to  be  descriptive  of  very  common  experiences 
which  are  very  like  or  very  closely  associated  with  the  present 
emergency.  It  follows  that  whatever  action  they  suggest  is 
likely  to  prevail.  The  issue  of  the  applicability  of  such  ideas 
to  the  situation  in  hand  is  not  raised.  Only  such  as  have  ap- 
plicability are  likely  to  get  into  the  mind. 

The  grading        But  as  the  resources  of  intelligence  increase  in  number  and 
cording  to*"  variety,  it  becomes  increasingly  possible  to  have  ideas,  which, 
relative       however  suggestive  they  may  be  of  desirable  consequences, 
and  prac-    are  not  practicable  in  the  present  situation.     If  this  situation 
ticabiiity     ^  wejj  exploited  by  the  mind,  any  idea  that  aspires  to  control 
will  have  to  be  coherent  with  the  mental  context  constructed 
through  such  exploitation.     It  must,  therefore,  be  not  only  a 
desirable  idea  but  a  practicable  one  ;   and  practicability  means 
not  only  agreement  with  fact  in  general,  but  also  coherence 
with  the  present  situation.     To  a  hungry  cow  the  idea  of 
green  pastures  would  be  alluring,  but  the  wisdom  of  being  con- 
trolled by  such  an  idea  would  depend  both  on  the  existence  of 
its  object  and  the  possibility  of  reaching  this  from  the  present 
location. 

Grading  by  An  individual  capable  of  having  many  ideas  which  vary  in 
feeling*""  their  value  as  guides  for  action  will  inevitably  come  to  exercise 
some  sort  of  selection  among  these.  If  an  idea  is  never  useful, 
one  may  be  sure  that  it  will  be  eliminated  altogether ;  that 
is,  will  be  forgotten.  Such  ideas  as  are  useful  occasionally  and 
according  to  circumstances  will  tend  to  be  recalled.  When 
they  do  appear,  it  is  necessary  for  the  mind  to  determine  in 
some  way  whether  they  represent  a  satisfactory  combination 
of  the  desirable  and  the  practicable.  At  first  this  determina- 
tion is  —  to  reiterate  an  oft-repeated  idea  —  largely  a  matter 


Conscious  Learning  243 

of  feeling.  One  feels  that  a  certain  idea  represents  a  more  satis- 
factory feasible  plan  of  action  than  any  other  before  attention. 
Such  feelings  are  partly  a  result  of  trial  and  error  learning,  and 
so  represent  habitual  ways  of  thinking.  In  part,  however, 
they  are  the  result  of  a  sense  of  relationships,  not  quite  clearly 
apprehended,  which  are  able,  as  we  have  seen,  to  reorganize 
associations,  in  ways  different  from  those  of  habit.  An  idea 
of  the  attractiveness  of  going  home  that  would  habitually 
start  movement  in  that  direction  might  in  a  strange  place  and 
after  a  long  journey  be  negatived  by  a  sense  of  the  futility  of 
any  effort  to  return  there.  Here  habit  is  nullified  because  it 
does  not  fit  in  with  the  prevailing  context  of  thought. 

The  feeling  of  coherence  is  itself  dependent  upon  the  extent  The  con- 
to  which  the  standard  by  which  it  is  determined  has  been  es-      o^*11658 
tablished  in  the  mind.     To  an  individual  with  little  or  no  sense      standards 
of  distance,  direction,  and  general  spatial  arrangement,  the      ancTVtL 
idea  of  home  would  be  just  as  likely  to  evoke  an  endeavor  to  go      Iaws  of  co' 

herence 

thither  when  one  has  traveled  so  great  a  distance  as  to  make 
return  impracticable  as  it  would  when  one  gets  into  a  some- 
what strange  place  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  his  abode. 
A  little  child  might  start  for  the  desired  haven  without  any 
appreciation  of  the  relative  possibility  or  impossibility  of  get- 
ting there.  One  with  more  experience  might  merely  feel  the 
impracticability  of  such  action,  without,  however,  knowing 
just  why  it  should  be  so.  The  development  of  the  concepts 
connected  with  space  means  that  one  has  a  basis  by  which 
judgment  is  able  to  determine  in  a  clearly  conscious  way  the 
practicability  of  many  movements,  and  to  guide  them,  if  they 
are  feasible,  to  a  successful  conclusion. 

The  growth  of  evaluated  and  evaluating  materials  has  been  Summary  of 
traced  through  the  following  steps  :    (i)   the  mere  sense  of      [{^growth 
strangeness  that  makes  one  aware  of  an  emergency  ;    (2)  the     of  the 
sense  of  relative  desirability  and  practicability  among  com-      ^"values 


244 


Principles  of  Education 


The  empiri- 
cal and 
logical 
tests  of 
truth 


peting  ideas  that  depends  upon  habit  and  felt  coherence  with 
certain  standards  of  thought  rather  than  upon  a  clear  conscious- 
ness of  the  reasons  upon  which  preferences  are  based  ;  (3)  the 
definite  consciousness  of  logical  procedure.  In  general,  the 
standard  of  judgment  is  that  consistent  system  into  which  ex- 
perience persistently  falls.  We  have  in  this  standard  two 
factors,  consistency  and  persistence,  which  constitute  the  es- 
sence of  all  tests  for  truth.  The  system  of  knowledge  must 
hang  together,  and  there  must  be  no  exceptions  to  its  con- 
stituent principles.  When  these  characteristics  of  truth  are 
brought  to  consciousness,  we  become  aware  of  the  essential 
principles  of  logical  procedure ;  we  apply  consciously  what 
may  be  called  the  empirical  and  the  logical  tests  of  truth.  The 
empirical  standard  of  truth  means  that  whatever  is  true  must 
agree  with  experience;  that  is,  it  must  be  founded  on  experience 
and  be  verified  by  experience.  It  must  persist.  The  logical 
standard  means  that  whatever  is  true  must  cohere  with  every- 
thing else  that  is  true.  It  must  be  consistent. 

The  empirical  test  finds  its  simplest  form  in  the  processes 
of  trial  and  error  learning  by  which  habits  are  formed.  When 
it  first  rises  into  consciousness,  it  is  as  an  appeal  to  the  cus- 
tomary, the  traditional,  that  which  is  authoritative  because  it 
has  stood  the  test  of  practice.  Any  idea  that  can  get  the  sup- 
port of  custom  and  precedent  at  once  has  an  extraordinary 
advantage  in  the  struggle  to  capture  judgment.  The  empirical 
test  antedates  the  logical  one.  It  comes  up  to  ideational  read- 
justment from  simpler  forms  of  learning,  whereas  the  logical 
test  finds  no  use  except  in  a  struggle  among  ideas.  The  hab- 
its of  an  organism  must  cohere  in  so  far  as  they  cross  each  other's 
paths.  Otherwise  they  could  not  work.  But  incoherences 
among  habits  are  corrected  not  by  an  awareness  of  their  incon- 
sistency, but  by  the  failure  that  springs  from  their  inability 
to  work  together.  We  learn  to  coordinate  our  habits,  because 


Conscious  Learning 


245 


otherwise  they  would  be  ineffective.  Thus  at  this  stage  of 
learning  the  empirical  test  is  the  only  one  necessary.  What- 
ever conforms  to  it  must  be  as  consistent  as  the  demands  of 
practice  require. 

In  perceptual  readjustment  the  logical  test  appears  in  the 
corroborations  and  contradictions  of  the  data  that  come  from 
the  various  senses  while  one  is  exploiting  the  nature  of  a  situ- 
ation. In  this  process  the  datum  that  fails  to  cohere  with  the 
mass  of  evidence  is  eliminated.  However,  some  data  may 
be  more  weighty  than  others.  Some  animals  trust  to  smell 
as  a  final  authoritative  test.  Touch  usually  has  precedence 
over  sight,  while  sound  is  more  frequently  suggestive  merely 
of  the  presence  of  something  that  should  be  attended  to  than 
determinative  of  its  nature.  The  establishment  of  relative 
authoritativeness  among  the  senses,  so  far  as  this  takes  place 
in  the  lifetime  of  the  individual,  is  a  matter  of  experience  and 
habit,  and  so  of  the  empirical  test. 

A  second  phase  of  the  logical  test  appears  in  social  inter- 
course. Even  before  the  advent  of  articulate  speech,  animals 
get  their  cues  as  to  how  they  should  interpret  situations,  and 
what  should  in  consequence  be  done,  from  observing  the  actions 
of  companions.  When  speech  appears,  the  resort  to  the  con- 
sensus of  opinion  becomes  the  dominant  form  of  logic.  The 
true  becomes  the  socially  accepted.  Wherever  conflict  arises 
among  opinions,  there  relative  weight  is  determined,  as  it  is 
with  the  data  of  the  senses,  by  the  appeal  to  experience,  to 
practical  success,  and  so  to  custom  or  the  empirical  test.  The 
opinion  of  the  majority  will,  other  things  being  equal,  have  the 
greater  weight,  but  individuals  may  gain  precedence  by  the 
same  process  by  which  habits  are  formed. 

When  memory  becomes  strong  enough  to  grasp  a  great  mass 
of  ideas  in  addition  to  the  present  data  of  sense,  the  logical 
problem  first  comes  clearly  before  consciousness.  One  re- 


The  logical 
test  as  co- 
herence 
with  au- 
thoritative 
sense  data ; 


as  social 
accepta- 
bility 


246 


Principles  of  Education 


The  rise  of 

standards 
of  truth; 


ment,  iaw 

of  nature, 

etc. 


members  many  cases  in  which  coherence  was  attained  among 
various  data  and  by  a  variety  of  methods.  He  distinguishes 
these  methods  of  logical  procedure,  and  compares  them  from 
tne  point  of  view  of  relative  effectiveness.  The  question  is 
raised  as  to  the  propriety  of  accepting  the  verdict  of  the  ma- 

. 

jonty,  or  the  customary  domination  of  the  data  of  this  sense 
or  of  the  opinions  of  that  individual.  Certain  principles  of 
judgment  emerge,  themselves  clarified  and  justified  by  the 
experiments  and  verifications  of  practice,  yet  serving  to  dis- 
countenance any  specific  custom  or  precedent  that  fails  to  har- 
monize with  them.  Thus,  having  reached  a  notion  of  what 
is  possible  in  the  way  of  spatial  arrangement,  one  would  dis- 
credit any  evidence,  no  matter  how  authoritative,  that 
tended  to  put  two  things  in  the  same  place  at  the  same  time. 
We  reach  the  conception  of  laws  of  nature,  and,  as  Hume 
declares,  no  mere  testimony  could  convince  us  that  they  have 
been  violated.  The  notion  of  one's  personality  arises  with  its 
background  of  experience,  all  of  which  must  be  arranged  con- 
sistently in  a  time  series  and  according  to  the  probabilities  of 
the  history  of  a  life.  Such  a  systematic  self-consciousness 
becomes  the  basis  for  testing  the  truth  of  any  idea  that  con- 
cerns it.  Memory  is,  as  we  have  seen,  largely  a  reconstruc- 
tion, through  the  sense  of  relations,  of  that  which  is  consistent 
with  the  general  system  of  past  things  in  the  history  of  the 
race  or  of  the  individual.1  Memory  proper,  or  the  ideas  that 
one  has  of  his  own  specific  past,  is  largely  a  product  of  such 
reconstruction.  Thus  the  standards  of  thought  are  a  basis, 
not  only  for  eliminating  the  ideas  that  do  not  apply  to  the  so- 
lution of  any  specific  mental  problem,  as,  for  example,  knowing 
one's  past,  but  also  for  suggesting  ideas  that  are  pertinent,  but 
would  otherwise  be  unthought. 

The  standards  of  thinking  include  all  the  categories  that  we 
1  Compare  §  27. 


Conscious  Learning 


247 


ultimate 
standards 
upon  tra- 
dition and 
authority 


have  mentioned  as  the  objects  of  the  consciousness  of  relations. 
As  part  of  the  machinery  of  judgment  they  represent  not  mere 
relations  that  we  think  about,  but  also  the  valuation  that  is 
placed  by  thought  upon  these.  Space,  time,  the  relations  of 
qualitative  consistency,  of  quantitative  consistency,  of  causal- 
ity, etc.,  make  up  a  set  of  conditions  to  which  the  contents  of 
thought  must  conform,  if  they  are  true.  Through  them  laws 
of  nature  and  the  objects  of  the  physical  and  mental  world  are 
fixed  in  definite  places  in  that  system  of  reality  which  consti- 
tutes the  standard  to  which  all  judgment  refers. 

The  elevation  into  clear  consciousness  of  these  logical  rela-  Reaction  of 
tions  makes  possible  the  weeding  out  of  an  enormous  number  edge  oT 
of  opinions  that  prevail  because  they  result  in  action  that  is, 
on  the  whole,  rather  beneficial  than  the  contrary.  Such 
opinions  may  be  said  to  be  sanctioned  by  the  empirical  test. 
They  work  in  practice,  although  for  reasons  quite  different 
from  what  their  believers  suppose.  Such  persons  may  confuse 
one  fact  with  another  that  is  likely  to  accompany  it.  In  the 
cure  of  disease  one  is  apt  to  attribute  to  the  medicine  that 
which  is  really  due  to  the  regimen  that  accompanies  its  use. 
If  an  opinion  is  widely  entertained  in  society,  one  is  apt  to 
suffer  consequences  that  are  at  least  disagreeable  if  he  be  skep- 
tical about  it.  Thus  the  idea  works  in  practice  because  so- 
ciety compels  it  to.  Authority  cannot  make  a  false  belief, 
but  it  can  make  the  part  of  prudence  to  be  the  acceptance  of 
the  falsehood.  These  inconsistencies  in  the  judgment  which 
is  based  on  the  empirical  test  alone  begin  to  be  weeded  out 
when  the  individual  man  gets  a  wider  array  of  facts  and  a 
firmer  grip  on  the  principles  of  consistency.  Thus  both  the 
man  and  the  race  pass  from  an  age  of  custom,  tradition,  and 
authority  over  to  one  of  criticism,  argument,  and  individual- 
ism. The  beliefs  that  are  sanctioned  by  habit  and  conven- 
tion are  found  not  to  be  consistent.  They  are  subjected  to  a 


248 


Principles  of  Education 


ca  forth 
logical  test 


ruthless  process  of  selection,  in  which  many  disappear.  At 
such  times  the  prevalent  emphasis  upon  the  principles  of  log- 
ical coherence  is  apt  to  cause  them  to  be  elevated  above  the 
empirical  test  of  truth.  It  is  assumed  that  mere  thinking, 
empin"  without  reference  to  experience  or  practice,  will  give  truth. 
Thus  Greek  philosophy  soon  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
senses  gave  only  contradiction  and  illusion,  and  that  reason 
alone  could  attain  the  reality.  They  exalted  the  principle  of 
consistency  to  such  an  extent  that  they  conceived  the  world  of 
ordinary  experience  and  practice  not  to  be  worthy  of  study 
or  interest  because  they  did  not  find  it  capable  of  a  ready  formu- 
lation in  a  coherent  system  of  thought.  Thus  the  reason  that 
was  in  the  first  instance  invoked  as  a  guide  to  practice  asserted 
its  supremacy  by  denying  the  significance  and  worth  of  any 
practice  except  that  which  took  no  account  of  worldly  conse- 
quences; that  is,  of  concrete  human  experience.  The  em- 
pirical test  was  swept  away. 

In  the  return  movement  toward  empiricism  the  logical  tests 
have  often  been  underrated.  We  have  never  gone  back  to  blind 
traditionalism,  but  in  our  logical  discussion  we  have  sometimes 
assumed  that  experience  and  not  thinking,  practice  and  not 
reflection,  are  the  sources  of  knowledge.  But  knowledge  is  an 
adjunct  of  conscious  learning,  and  not  of  readjustment  by 
mere  practice,  or  trial  and  error.  It  is  that  consistent  system 
of  thought  which  springs,  not  from  experience  alone,  but  from 
experience  organized  by  logic  and  so  capable  of  anticipating 
the  results  of  practice.  The  empirical  test  is  the  basis  of  all 
learning,  but  without  the  cooperation  of  logic  we  cannot  have 
conscious  learning.  In  the  consciousness  of  the  interrelation 
of  these  two  standards  judgment  comes  to  appreciate  its  true 
function. 

This  appreciation  enables  the  mind  to  attain  the  highest 
form  of  the  critical  attitude.  We  may  call  this  the  attitude 


Fallacy  of 
underrat- 
ing the 
logical  test 


Conscious  Learning  249 

of  deliberation.  Criticism  begins  with  inhibition,  —  and  in-  (3)  Growth  of 
hibition  which  at  first  is  founded  upon  positive  failure,  but  attitude0* 
later  in  evolution  comes  to  be  stirred  up  by  the  sense  of  nov- 
elty in  a  situation,  so  that  one  hesitates  and  investigates  or 
reflects  before  he  acts.  Thus  there  appears  that  alertness 
which  we  have  already  emphasized  as  a  phase  of  the  attitude 
of  originality.  Corresponding  to  it  is  the  critical  attitude  of 
doubt.  As  the  fund  of  ideas  grows,  it  comes  to  be  supple- 
mented more  and  more  by  reflectiveness  which  is  sustained  by 
the  sense  of  inconclusiveness.  When  the  meaning  of  logical 
procedure  has  been  clearly  grasped,  these  attitudes  attain  the 
form  of  deliberation.  The  attitude  of  deliberation  means  that 
one  is  fully  aware  of  the  principles  upon  which  judgment  is 
based  and  will  not  decide  until  conformity  to  them  has  been 
reached.  This  does  not  mean  that  decision  must  wait  a  plan 
that  is  entirely  satisfactory.  If  deliberation  be  always  car- 
ried to  that  extreme,  it  may  reach  indecision.  It  is  only  nec- 
essary that  one  should  have  the  power  to  reflect  as  long  as  re- 
flection is  likely  to  be  profitable  rather  than  injurious,  and 
that  decision  should  fix  upon  that  plan  which,  all  things  con- 
sidered, is  the  wisest  that  has  been  suggested. 

Judgment,  then,  reaches  its  highest  form  in  deliberate  rea-  Summary 
soning.  This  section  may,  therefore,  be  summarized  by  a  Description 
description  of  reasoning,  in  which  the  process  of  evolution 
that  we  have  traced  culminates.  Reasoning  means  a  pause 
of  reflection.  The  critical  attitude  is  alive,  and  roused  by  the 
sense  of  an  emergency,  the  mind  has  thrown  itself  into  an 
attitude  of  experimentation,  of  original  endeavor.  Experi- 
mental perception  may  supply  a  mass  of  data.  Experimental 
ideation  supplements,  perhaps  swamps  this  with  its  own  prod- 
ucts. At  any  rate  we  have  a  mass  of  material  struggling  for 
attention.  Professor  Titchener  calls  this  material  an  "ag- 
gregate idea."  The  process  of  reasoning  involves  the  logical 


250  Principles  of  Education 

resolution  of  the  aggregate  idea  into  a  coherent  decision,  that 
can  satisfactorily  to  judgment  seize  and  hold  the  attention. 
Moreover,  to  have  reasoning  we  must  be  conscious  of  this  logic  ; 
there  must  be  apprehended  and  not  merely  felt  coherence. 
This  means  that  the  aggregate  idea  must  be  clearly  separated 
into  ideas  that  are  evaluated  in  reference  to  their  desirability 
and  practicability,  and  ideas  that  have  as  yet  to  pass  through 
the  process  of  evaluation  before  they  can  be  applied  to  the 
present  emergency.  There  must  be  standards  and  plans.  The 
standards  must  include  a  mass  of  facts  about  things,  persons, 
places,  events  in  the  history  of  the  physical,  social,  and  mental 
worlds,  laws  of  nature,  —  all  gathered  together  in  what  may 
be  called  the  system  of  reality.  These  facts  have  been  evalu- 
ated by  previous  processes  of  thought.  They  have  satisfied, 
in  a  measure  at  least,  both  the  empirical  and  the  logical  tests 
of  truth,  and  their  relative  standing  in  the  system  of  reality  is 
in  proportion  to  the  extent  to  which  these  tests  have  been  ap- 
plied and  met.  Further,  the  standards  must  embrace  a  clear 
consciousness  of  the  principles  of  coherence,  such  as  those  of 
space  and  time  and  the  categories  of  logic,  so  that  when  new 
ideas  are  judged  one  may  know  not  only  that  with  which  they 
are  compared,  but  also  the  principles  that  underlie  the  process 
of  comparison.  Especially  must  one  realize  the  relative  im- 
portance and  specific  functions  of  the  empirical  and  the  log- 
ical tests  of  truth.  Otherwise,  that  which  has  the  better  em- 
pirical proof  may  be  rejected  because  of  logical  inconsistency 
with  what  has  an  inferior  justification  from  practice.  Finally, 
the  critical  attitude,  strengthened  by  a  consciousness  of  the 
value  of  reasoning  and  its  mechanism,  must  assert  its  sway  so 
effectively  that  no  decision  is  reached  that  is  not  a  product  of 
conscious  assent,  and  of  the  conviction  that  reflection  has  done 
its  best  under  the  circumstances. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  THE  REASON 

SECTION  29.    General  problem  of  educating  the  reason 

THE  culmination  of  the  evolution  of  education  is  in  the  edu- 
cation of  the  reason.  In  its  simplest  form  education  makes 
simply  for  readjustment  in  the  individual.  When,  with  the 
evolution  of  rejuvenation  and  of  society,  a  problem  of  saving 
acquired  characters  and  social  heredity  arises,  education  as- 
sumes this  function  and  becomes  recapitulatory,  conservative, 
readjusting  the  individual,  but  preserving  the  existing  adjust- 
ments of  the  race.  Finally,  however,  there  appears  in  the 
individual  a  capacity  to  readjust  that  seems  capable  of  pre- 
serving itself  against  the  encroachments  of  habit.  With  the 
growth  of  this  function  its  potency  is  brought  more  and  more 
clearly  to  the  attention  of  men,  and  education  gradually  in- 
terests itself  more  and  more  in  the  endeavor  to  foster  so  effec- 
tive an  instrument.  Rationality  stands  out  as  the  primary 
aim  of  culture.  The  school  ceases  to  think  mainly  of  definite 
adjustment,  and  comes  to  emphasize  especially  that  power 
to  readjust  which  may  rightly  be  regarded  as  the  most  valu- 
able quality  the  man  may  have. 

That  it  is  possible  to  educate  the  reason  is  a  common  as- 
sumption. Yet  it  is  not  easy  to  demonstrate  the  success  of 
modern  endeavors  in  that  direction.  Education  that  aims  to 
create  habits,  either  of  action  or  of  thought,  with  an  eye  to  their 
specific  efficiency,  can  without  great  difficulty  appraise  the  re- 
sults of  its  efforts.  It  is  easy  to  see  when  the  habits  are  formed, 

251 


Evolution 
from    re- 
capitula- 
tory to  ra- 
tional edu- 
cation 


Paradoxical 
nature  of 
the  train- 
ing of  the 
reason 


252 


Principles  of  Education 


Rationality 


urai  ten- 
vary 


and  not  very  hard  to  estimate  their  utility.  But  since  reason 
is  invoked  only  in  new  situations,  and  these  by  the  very  nature 
of  the  case  are  unexpected,  a  preparation  for  reasoning  seems 
paradoxical.  Indeed,  it  would  appear  that  he  who  reasons 
well  simply  utilizes  in  unusual  ways  what  he  learned  primarily 
for  other  uses.  In  other  words,  what  was  cultivated  in  him 
was  specific  efficiency,  and  education  must  rely  solely  upon 
inborn  talent  for  the  adaptation  of  such  resources  to  the  un- 
foreseen. Even  if  resources  could  be  acquired  merely  be- 
cause of  the  vague  hope  that  on  some  occasion  they  might  be 
utilized,  the  process  would  seem  like  wanton  waste  when  so 
much  is  to  be  learned  that  makes  for  definite  uses  as  well  as 
merely  possible  ones. 

Paradoxical  as  the  education  of  the  reason  may  seem,  it  in- 
-  v°lves  merely  an  attempt  consciously  to  affect  factors  which 
are  everywhere  in  evidence,  as  the  basis  of  power  to  readjust. 
When  nature  would  readapt  a  species  to  its  environment, 
nothing  can  be  done  unless  the  stock  in  question  possesses  the 
power  to  vary,  whether  that  power  be  displayed  orthogeneti- 
cally,  heterogenetically,  or  in  mere  chance  variations.  If  an 
individual  is  to  learn,  he  must  have,  as  we  have  seen,  a  resource- 
ful action  system,  and  this  includes  not  only  power  to  do 
many  things,  but  also  the  ability  to  do  them  in  response  to 
situations  which  they  were  not  designed  to  meet.  Thus 
when  we  come  to  consciousness  and  to  reason,  we  do  not  find 
any  exception  to  the  general  rule  in  the  fact  that  the  founda- 
tion of  these  functions  should  lie  in  resources  which  derive 
their  origin  from  no  specific  attempt  to  perform  the  tasks  to 
which  later  they  are  found  to  be  so  well  adapted.  Readjust- 
ment is  invariably  a  process  of  selection  among  materials  that 
have  been,  for  the  most  part,  in  use  in  other  connections,  and 
were  all  originally  the  outcome  of  an  innate  potentiality  of 
creation. 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  253 

This  inner  potentiality  does  not  seem,  however,  to  be  utterly  Examples  of 
beyond  the  influence  of  directive  agencies.     There  is  at  times  **c~  { 

about  the  variation  of  species  and  the  accumulation  of  re-  of  this  ten- 
sources  by  individuals  what  appears  like  an  appropriate  prep- 
aration for  the  emergencies  that  are  to  be.  The  expansion  of 
inner  powers  seems  here  not  to  be  a  mere  chance  affair,  but 
orthogenetic.  We  have  seen  that  the  selective  process  has  a 
reaction  upon  the  power  to  readjust  along  dependent  lines  of 
development.  The  selective  encouragement  of  growth  in  a 
certain  direction  means  the  development  of  a  tendency  to  fur- 
ther growth  along  the  same  line,  or  of  a  form  that  can  readily 
vary  further  in  the  same  general  way.  Well-selected  habits 
are  a  basis  for  new  habits  formed  by  coordinating  them.  The 
action  system  of  man  is,  doubtless,  by  ages  of  selection  emi- 
nently well  fitted  for  the  greatest  variety  of  those  emergencies 
that  are  likely  to  arise  in  his  environment.  In  the  field  of 
consciousness  the  same  fact  is  clearly  illustrated.  The  pro- 
cess of  selection  by  which  perceptual  interpretations  are  fixed, 
images  discriminated,  and  ideas  of  relation  abstracted  is  a 
source  of  extraordinary  gain  to  the  resources  of  thinking. 
Everywhere,  then,  the  accumulation  of  resources  seems  to 
receive  positive  guidance  from  the  processes  that  have  deter- 
mined the  value  of  similar  resources  in  the  past.  And  if 
selection  does  not  guide  positively,  it  may  do  so  negatively. 
It  may,  by  eliminating  those  who  vary  in  certain  directions, 
root  out  all  but  those  who  tend  to  develop  in  approved  ones. 
If  the  possibilities  of  development  happen  to  be  limited,  the 
destruction  of  some  means  the  restriction  of  variation  to  the 
residual  direction.  The  logic  of  the  disjunctive  syllogism 
here  converts  the  denial  of  certain  alternatives  into  the 
affirmation  of  another,  provided  the  potentialities  of  the 
organism  enable  it  to  produce  such  an  alternative. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  nature  had  afforded  to  man  an 


254  Principles  of  Education 

Curiosity  as  example  of  providing  with  considerable  selective  skill  ma- 
intheac-  terials  characterized  by  availability  when  readjustment  is 
quisition  necessary.  The  power  of  cognition  is,  as  we  have  seen,  merely 

of  the  most  .  .         ,  „  , 

useful  ex-    a  saving  of  what  may  prove  worth  while  in  conscious  learn- 


penence  jng  jjuj.  attention  and  cognition  instinctively  direct  them- 
selves to  points  that  are,  on  the  whole,  likely  to  be  involved  in 
the  later  problems  of  the  mind.  The  instinct  of  curiosity 
seems  to  have  no  other  utility  than  this  of  provoking  atten- 
tion and  the  accumulation  of  knowledge  about  things  in 
anticipation  of  its  actual  use.  Curiosity  seems  to  cling  to 
the  other  instincts,  especially  to  such  as  in  their  nature  or  in 
the  methods  by  which  they  are  satisfied  are  likely  to  be  affected 
by  variable  conditions.  It  is,  of  course,  especially  aroused 
when  one  fails  to  gain  one's  instinctive  wants.  However,  we 
are  curious  about  that  which  has  as  yet  offered  no  problem  of 
readjustment  to  any  other  instinct  except  that  of  curiosity. 
Moreover,  the  extent  of  our  curiosity  in  any  field  is  not  in 
proportion  to  the  immediacy  of  the  need  of  readjustment 
therein.  Thus  the  instinct  develops  apparently  to  provide 
a  permanent  interest  in  the  accumulation  of  that  sort  of 
knowledge  which  is  on  the  whole  most  useful  in  new  situations. 
Through  it  the  process  of  gathering  experience  is  not  left  to 
the  direction  of  chance  emergencies,  but  goes  on  along  broader 
lines.  One  learns  more  than  is  necessary  for  the  moment,  and 
about  things  which  at  the  moment  are  of  no  practical  concern 
except  that  one  wants  to  learn  them. 

Methods  by        The  education  of  the  reason  means  a  conscious  endeavor 
Nation  can    to  supplement  and  to  guide  the  work  done  under  the  influence 
assist^         Of  the  instinct  of  curiosity.     Curiosity  enlarges  the  circle  of 
interests,  and  thus  leads  to  a  broader,  more  reliable  equipment 
of  knowledge  than  would  spring  from  the  emergencies  of  the 
other  instincts.     Education  can  seize  these  interests  and  ex- 
pand them.     It  can  exercise  supervision  over  the  kind  of  ex- 


reason 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  255 

perience  that  the  young  obtain,  to  see  that  it  is  fundamental 
and  not  merely  incidental,  that  it  is  universal  rather  than  par- 
ticular, and  that  it  is  comprehensive  and  not  confined  to  a 
special  field.  It  can  direct  attention  toward  organizing  this 
knowledge  in  ways  most  likely  to  promote  recall  in  new  situa- 
tions. It  can  cultivate  the  attitude  of  invoking  this  knowl- 
edge, and  the  power  of  applying  it  critically.  Thus  man  by 
his  conscious  effort  carries  on  the  work  of  nature  in  providing 
material  for  learning.  The  selective  control  of  the  process  of 
acquiring  experience  renders  its  results  far  more  widely  useful 
for  reasoning  than  if  they  have  been  gained  at  haphazard. 
To  deny  that  one  can  educate  the  reason  means  that  here  the 
elevation  into  consciousness  of  a  process  that  hitherto  has 
been  carried  on  by  merely  natural  forces  shall  fail  of  bringing 
with  it  the  gain  in  effectiveness  that  usually  accompanies  this 
step  in  evolution. 

As  a  preliminary  to  a  more  specific  treatment  of  our  topic,  TWO  general 
two  general  principles  regarding  the  training  of  the  reason  may 


be  laid  down.     In  the  first  place,  since  the  materials  for  reason-      the  culture 

ing  are  gained  in  the  course  of  effecting  readjustments,  their      reason: 

acquisition  is  for  the  most  part  merely  incidental  to  the  pur-      (J)  Pr°cess 

pose  immediately  in  hand  when  they  are  acquired.     It  follows      portant 

that  for  the  culture  of  the  reason  process  becomes  of  more  im- 

portance  than  product,  reasons  are  of  greater  concern  than 

the  conclusions  that  we  derive  from  them,  and  the  description 

of  a  situation  is  of  more  ultimate  value  than  the  habit  of  deal- 

ing with  it  effectively.     We  learn  habits  in  spite  of  our  mis- 

takes; we  learn  to  reason  because  of  them.     The  comprehen- 

sion of  that  in  the  situation  which  makes  a  certain  response 

effective,  and  of  that  which  in  other  responses  is  the  ground 

of  their  failure,  is  what  makes  it  possible  for  any  piece  of  learn- 

ing to  be  a  source  of  thinking  power  in  future  situations  that 

are  different  but  possess  like  elements. 


256 


Principles  of  Education 


Definite 
nature  of 
the  results 
of  atten- 
tion to  the 
process  of 
learning 


Attention  to 
process  and 
the  culture 
of  the  logi- 
cal atti- 
tudes 


(2)    Mental 
enrichment 
should 
precede 
training  in 
the   logical 
attitudes 


By  saying  that  for  the  culture  of  the  reason  process  becomes 
of  more  importance  than  product,  it  is  not  meant  to  empha- 
size any  mere  abstract  power  of  reasoning  that  may  be  sup- 
posed to  result  from  this  process.  On  the  contrary,  the  re- 
sults that  attention  to  the  process  of  learning  bring  are  quite 
as  definite,  as  concrete,  and  as  positive  as  are  the  habits  of 
thought  or  action  at  which  the  learning  process  immediately 
aims.  The  knowledge  of  the  reason  why  three  times  four  are 
twelve  is  as  definite  a  matter  as  is  the  fact  itself.  If  one  wishes 
to  know  this  product,  the  habit  of  thought  and  action  which 
mechanically  yields  it  does  not  gain  in  effectiveness  from  the 
knowledge  of  its  reason.  If,  however,  one  desires  to  attain  a 
new  product  or  to  verify  the  dicta  of  mechanical  memory, 
these  reasons  become  of  prime  importance.  They  are  definite 
resources  of  great  value  in  dealing  with  new  situations. 

In  addition  to  this  great  mass  of  descriptive  and  explanatory 
knowledge  that  springs  from  attention  to  the  process,  we  gain 
from  this  same  source  in  power  to  take  the  logical  attitudes. 
One  gets  in  the  habit  of  thinking,  and  with  that  goes  a  gain  in 
the  tendency  to  be  both  original  and  critical  in  dealing  with 
new  situations.  Here  again  it  is  intended  to  maintain  that 
one  gains  not  any  vague  abstract  power,  but  rather  a  very 
definite  mass  of  habits  and  emotions  that  determine  the  direc- 
tion of  attention  and  the  activities  of  thinking.  The  nature 
of  these  and  the  methods  of  cultivating  them  will  be  taken  up 
in  a  special  section. 

The  second  general  principle  regarding  the  culture  of  the 
reason  is  that  everywhere  the  acquisition  of  materials  should 
precede  the  endeavor  to  arouse  the  logical  attitudes.  It  is 
evident  that  the  boldness  of  originality  will  quickly  be  tamed 
into  the  commonplace  if  one  has  no  resources  for  it  to  summon 
forth.  Herein  lies  no  danger  and  no  need  of  caution,  except 
to  warn  the  teacher  that  original  creations  should  not  be  ex- 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  257 

pected  to  spring,  like  a  bolt  from  the  blue,  out  of  empty  minds. 
But  it  is  different  regarding  the  critical  attitude.  The  edu- 
cation of  a  child  may  begin  with  inhibitions,  and  may  continue 
to  emphasise  them  at  the  expense  of  positive  thought  and  ac- 
tion. Necessary  as  is  the  critical  attitude,  to  attempt  to  de- 
velop it  before  the  child  has  any  resources  of  experience  to 
criticise  is  to  encourage  a  timid,  hesitating,  indecisive  tem- 
perament. One  is  paralyzed  before  he  begins  to  think.  Or, 
perhaps,  for  lack  of  positive  material  upon  which  to  exercise 
its  influence,  the  critical  attitude  may  fail  to  become  a  real  inner 
force,  and  remain  attached  to  certain  external  commanding 
agencies  which  must  be  in  evidence  before  it  is  displayed.  In 
matters  of  moral  discipline  this  alternative  is  especially  likely 
to  appear.  The  child  is  taught  to  control  himself  before  he 
has  any  substitute  for  what  he  is  forbidden  to  do.  He  is  thus 
reduced  to  helpless  passivity,  or  driven  to  invent  cunning  de- 
vices to  dodge  the  penalties  that  disobedience  involves.  In 
any  event,  the  control  is  so  foreign  to  his  active  nature  that  he 
never  exerts  it  except  from  compulsion.  The  only  genuine 
control  consistent  with  activity  is  the  control  of  choice,  and 
this  cannot  appear  until  one  has  accumulated  material  upon 
which  it  may  act. 

We  may  assume,  then,  that  the  reason  can  be  cultivated.  Summary 
Paradoxical  as  it  seems,  nature  offers  us  examples  of  prepar- 
ing for  the  unexpected,  or  the  emergency.  She  does  this  in 
rejuvenation,  in  the  capacity  to  learn,  in  cognitive  conscious- 
ness, in  the  instinct  of  curiosity.  Nature  even  shows  an  ap- 
propriateness of  preparation,  since  what  is  provided  as  capital 
for  readjustment  is  found  to  include,  on  the  whole,  that  which 
is  more  likely  to  work  than  not.  There  is  an  orthogenesis 
about  the  evolution  of  the  action  system.  The  materials  of 
social  heredity  are  selected  for  the  progress  as  well  as  for  the 
perfection  of  the  individual,  and  curiosity  displays  its  activity 


258  Principles  of  Education 

in  fields  especially  likely  to  prove  fruitful  of  devices  in  sub- 
sequent emergencies.  This  unconscious  foresight  can  be  bet- 
tered by  the  intelligence  of  man  in  the  cultivation  of  the  reason. 
In  that  task  the  process  becomes  of  more  importance  than 
the  product,  for  it  is  the  reasons  and  the  descriptions  that  ex- 
plain the  success  of  what  is  learned  and  the  sources  of  error 
and  failure  that  are  of  use  in  later  emergencies  rather  than 
the  specific  adjustments  at  which  learning  immediately  aims. 
Lastly,  all  training  of  the  reason  should  begin  in  the  wise  ac- 
cumulation of  resources  and  follow  this  by  the  cultivation  of 
the  logical  attitudes. 

SECTION  30.     The  accumulation  of  mental  materials 

Education  If  we  analyze  the  materials  of  reasoning  into  plans  and  stand- 

begins  with   ar(js  ft  is  evident  that  the  acquisition  of  the  former  must  pre- 

developmg 

resources      cede  the  establishment  of  the  latter.     Early  education  is  natu- 
rally an  expansion.     From  the  physical  point  of  view,  the  child 
tries  all  its  useful  muscles  and  nearly  all  possible  combinations 
of  movement.     It  is  the  wriggling  age,  out  of  which  emerges 
Criticism        the  possibility  of  varied  and  flexible  control.     From  the  mental 
and  should  point  of  view,  the  child  passes  from  an  age  of  primitive  curiosity, 
not  impede   tnaj-  serves  the  simpler  instincts  and  exploits  through  perception 

expansion 

of  power  the  world  of  commonest  things,  to  an  age  of  imagination  and 
make-believe.  This  is  the  period  of  rich  'efflorescence  of  thought, 
out  of  which  the  child  grows  into  a  critical  epoch.  In  this  later 
period  the  acceptable  idea  is  winnowed  out  from  the  mass  of 
fancies.  Truth  is  separated  from  falsehood.  Memory  proper 
is  differentiated  from  imagination.  But  in  the  rage  for  criti- 
cism, for  training,  that  is  apt  then  to  appear,  the  teacher 
must  beware  lest  the  child  cease  to  accumulate  and  to  originate. 
There  can  be  no  healthy  mental  development  without  constant 
additions  to  the  mental  resources.  A  school  that  would  culti- 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  259 

vate  reason  must  be  a  place  of  ceaseless  activity,  and  it  is  more 
important  at  the  start  that  the  child  should  be  active  than  that 
the  activity  should  be  approved.  Herein  lies  the  truth  of 
President  Hall's  insistence  on  the  free  play  of  all  instinctive 
activities,1  and  of  Rousseau's  ideal  of  a  childhood  of  unrestricted 
sport. 

However,  certain  kinds  of  resources  are  more  profitable  than  Experience 
others.     It  cannot  be  said  that  we  are  left  with  no  method  of      ma^ be 

made 

providing  for  reason  except  by  encouraging  the  child  to  acquire  typical, 
an  indiscriminate  mass  of  material.  Without  reference  to  (/the 
specific  uses,  it  is  certain  that  some  images,  some  ideas  will  be  concept 
far  more  useful  in  the  endeavor  to  grasp  new  situations  than  are 
others.  Education  of  the  reason  is,  as  Professor  McMurry 
suggests,  continually  in  search  of  the  type.2  Typical  experi- 
ence is  such  as  proves  the  clew  to  the  interpretation  and  treat- 
ment of  a  great  variety  of  specific  emergencies.  It  takes,  under 
the  influence  of  the  processes  of  generalization  and  abstraction, 
the  form  of  the  concept,  which  represents  just  that  about  ex- 
perience which  makes  it  typical ;  i.e.  the  universal  quality. 
The  concept  sums  up  many  particulars ;  that  is,  it  contains 
that  in  them  which  is  useful  when  applied  to  new  situations. 
The  resources  of  the  reason,  then,  consist  ultimately  of  con- 
cepts, which,  in  consequence,  are  the  goal  of  such  instruction 
as  aims  to  cultivate  the  reason.3  The  concept  is  an  idea  of 
relation.  It  grasps  together  many  factors  that  are  always  to 
be  found  together  in  every  case  to  which  it  applies.  This  is  its 
intension.  Wherever  we  have  fire,  we  have  many  things  going 
on.  Heat  is  present,  and  if  we  come  too  near,  we  shall  suffer 
pain.  Substances  are  being  destroyed,  or  rather  transformed 
from  solids,  liquids,  or  gases,  as  the  case  may  be,  into  certain 
gases,  with  perhaps  a  residuum  of  ashes.  We  might  continue 

1  Compare  §  21.  8  Compare  ibid.,  Ch.  IV. 

8  Compare  The  Method  of  the  Recitation,  Ch.  X. 


260  Principles  of  Education 

The  concept  the  account  of  the  intension  of  the  concept,  fire,  almost  in- 
of  predk5-13  definitely,  but  it  is  necessary  only  to  note  that  its  value  in  pre- 
tion,  the      diction,  and  so  as  a  basis  for  dealing  with  new  situations,  de- 
reasoning     pends  upon  this  intension.    When  we  can  safely  apply  the 
concept,  we  can  with  assurance  forecast  the  presence  of  the 
various  factors  of  the  intension,  even  though  they  are  not  yet 
present  to  observation.     Thus  the  mind  leaps  ahead  of  the 
given  data  to  interpretations.     The  associations  or  relation- 
ships which  when  seized  and  abstracted  yield  concepts  are  the 
active  dynamic  principles  that  lead  thought  on.     Hence  they 
are  responsible  for  the  interpretations  of  perception,  for  the 
images  and  ideas  that  course  into  the  mind  in  thinking.     When 
these  relationships  are  generalized  into  concepts,  one  comes  to 
apprehend  the  principles  that  bind  his  experience  together  and 
that  enable  ideation  and  conscious  learning. 

The  abstrac-       The  elevation  of  the  associations  of  thought  into  conscious- 
tion  of  con-  ness  ^  fae  form  of  ideas  of  relation,  or  concepts,  enables  their 

cepts  as 

necessary  criticism.  One  is  made  aware  of  the  principles  that  govern  his 
criticism  thought,  and  is  able  to  test  their  reliability.  The  concept  forms 
of  thinking  a  nucleus  about  which  a  larger  and  larger  intension  gathers,  and 
from  which  elements  mistakenly  supposed  to  belong  to  its  in- 
tension are  being  continually  excluded.  Moreover,  the  inten- 
sion is  gradually  broken  up  into  factors  that  are  invariably 
present,  and  factors  that  are  only  occasionally  in  evidence. 
Especially  important  in  this  analysis  of  intension  is  the  dis- 
covery of  those  elements  that  can  be  used  as  criteria  in  apply- 
ing the  concept  to  new  cases.  These  are  the  defining  charac- 
ters. When  they  are  present,  one  can  apply  the  corresponding 
concept,  and  so  add  in  safely  any  other  elements  of  the  inten- 
sion that  may  prove  of  value  in  dealing  with  the  case  in  hand. 
The  abstraction  of  the  concept  from  the  concrete  cases  to 
which  it  applies  assists  in  its  criticism  and  also  in  its  application. 
As  has  been  said,  it  represents  just  that  in  particular  instances 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  261 

which  can  be  applied  universally.  Therefore  its  recognition, 
criticism,  and  definition  make  available  in  a  universal  form 
this  potent  agency.  It  is  freed  from  the  accidental  associations 
that  might  confuse  and  prevent  its  application  where  it  prop- 
erly belongs,  or  lead  to  a  false  use.  Hence  the  accumulation 
of  resources  for  reasoning  means  primarily  the  abstraction 
and  the  criticism  of  concepts. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  process  of  generalization  Concepts  to 
makes  for  ability  to  discover  in  new  situations  something  that  should  be 
is  familiar.  On  the  other  hand,  the  teacher  must  be  careful  in  derived 

IT  i        i  -I  -11  p       from  the 

dealing  out  to  the  child  concepts  to  avoid  the  common  error  of  concrete 
supposing  that  it  is  enough  to  impart  a  truth  in  a  generalized 
form.  Here  again  Professor  McMurry  has  a  valuable  sugges- 
tion 1 ;  namely,  that  only  concepts  that  have  been  derived  from 
and  illustrated  in  concrete  material  are  properly  endowed  with 
meaning  and  usefulness  to  their  possessor.  The  truth  of  this 
principle  is  not  self-evident.  Why  should  not  the  generalized 
form  be  enough  ?  Since  it  is  only  this  universal  factor  that  can 
be  applied,  one  would  think  that  in  so  far  as  it  retained  the  evi- 
dences of  its  origin  from  particular  data  it  would  be  incum- 
bered  and  confused  by  unessential  factors,  the  absence  of  which 
in  new  cases  would  prevent  its  recognition  therein. 

Now  although  facts  possess  value  just  in  so  far  as  they  have  Accidental 
been  or  are  capable  of  generalization,  the  bare  abstraction  is 
perhaps  quite  as  valueless  as  the  mere  particular.  For  while  recall 
it  is  in  the  form  that  makes  it  readily  applicable,  this  form  alone 
does  not  render  it  easy  to  be  remembered  and  recalled.  The 
conditions  that  cause  any  element  to  be  revived  in  memory 
are  complex.  It  is  rare,  indeed,  that  a  principle  is  recalled 
when  no  link  of  resemblance  save  that  of  this  common  abstract 
concept  exists  between  the  new  situation  and  the  earlier  ones 
from  which  the  principle  was  derived.  A  physician  who  has 
1  Compare  Method  of  the  Recitation. 


262  Principles  of  Education 

observed  in  the  sickroom  the  symptoms  of  a  certain  disease  is 
more  likely  to  recognize  the  disease  in  a  new  case  than  if  he  had 
only  read  about  these  symptoms.  This  is  true  not  only  be- 
cause the  actual  observation  impresses  the  symptoms  upon  the 
mind,  but  also  because  the  circumstances  of  these  actual  cases 
resemble  in  many  more  points  the  new  case  than  do  the  circum- 
stances attendant  upon  reading  a  book  or  listening  to  a  lecture. 
One  would  be  likely  to  recall  book  knowledge  in  reading  new 
books  or  in  discussing  the  literature  of  the  subject.  When 
one  actually  faces  the  concrete  situation  where  the  knowledge 
is  to  be  used,  the  ease  with  which  he  can  call  up  his  resources 
depends  directly  upon  the  amount  of  similarity  between  the 
total  situation  before  him  and  the  total  situation  in  which  his 
knowledge  was  obtained.  Into  this  total  enter  elements  that 
may  seem  to  have  the  most  accidental  connection  with  the  vital 
principle  that  relates  the  present  with  the  past.  A  mere  simi- 
larity in  subjective  mood  may  constitute  a  link  that  helps  recall 
quite  as  effectively  as  does  the  logical  principle  the  application 
of  which  is  the  function  of  the  recollection. 
'Total  re-  Professor  Tames  has  called  that  type  of  recall  in  which  the 

call "  and  .  .  11-11  •  • 

its  preva-  suggested  experience  is  brought  back  because  of  its  connection 
with  all  or  nearly  all  of  the  present  context  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing total  recall.1  If  we  were  to  represent  this  context  by  a,  b,  c, 
d,  etc.,  among  which  are  not  only  the  dominant  sensations, 
images,  concepts,  and  feelings,  but  also  receding  and  rising  ones, 
then  any  experience  that  is  called  up  not  merely  by  the  in- 
fluence of  d,  but  also  by  the  help  of  a,  b,  c,  etc.,  is  a  result  of 
total  recall.  On  the  other  hand,  if  d  alone,  or  in  conjunction 
with  a  small  portion  of  the  context,  calls  up  an  experience  dis- 
connected with  the  rest,  we  have  partial  recall.  Total  recall 
means  the  unrestricted  domination  of  the  mechanical  laws  of 
habit,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  constitute  the  original  dynamic 

1  Psychology  (Briefer  Course),  Ch.  XVI. 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


263 


of  mental  association.  Partial  recall  means  the  introduction 
of  selection,  of  preferences.  It  means  the  disintegration  of  the 
associations  of  mere  habit  in  order  that  they  may  be  made  to 
conform  to  those  of  logic.1 

Both  types  of  recall  are  instrumental  in  affording  resources  to 
reason.  They  supplement  each  other,  and  yet  are  distinct  in 
operation.  Total  recall,  the  recall  of  habit,  furnishes  the  basis 
by  which  materials  are  originally  brought  together  in  the  mind. 
The  grip  of  such  memory,  with  its  mechanical  links  of  cus- 
tomary connection,  causes  a  mass  of  material  to  accumulate  in 
the  general  field  of  attention.  Thereafter  processes  of  selection, 
resolution,  and  reorganization  set  in.  The  effect  of  these  is  to 
single  out  certain  factors,  making  them  more  powerful  in  sug- 
gesting force  than  the  others,  because  they  and  their  associated 
thoughts  represent  more  reliable,  more  consistent,  more  im- 
portant factors  in  experience.  In  this  process  of  evaluation 
the  analytical  power  of  mind  comes  to  the  front,  and  it  is  upon 
analysis  that  originality  largely  depends.  However,  the  selec- 
tive activities  that  are  operative  in  partial  recall  cannot  be- 
come active  until  the  mechanism  of  habitual  memory  has  pro- 
vided material.  Moreover,  after  analysis,  selection,  and  reor- 
ganization have  done  their  work,  their  results  must  be  intrusted 
again  to  the  binding  force  of  a  new  set  of  habits  in  order  that 
they  may  control  the  current  of  thought  in  the  future  processes 
of  recall. 

Partial  recall  is  recall  through  selected,  generalized,  evalu- 
ated associations.  Total  recall  means  the  continued  influence 
of  associations  of  habit  that  do  not  have  the  same  universal 
character,  yet  add  their  weight  to  the  forces  that  determine  the 
current  of  the  thought.  Herein  lies  the  main  reason  why  gen- 
eralizations are  more  apt  to  be  useful  when  they  come  to  us 
embedded  in  a  concrete  experience  many  of  the  elements  of 

1  Compare  §  27. 


'Partial  re- 
call" es- 
pecially 
helpful  to 
reason 


264 


Principles  of  Education 


Four  applica- 
tions of  the 
principle 
that  con- 
cepts 
should  be 
derived 
from  the 
concrete : 

(i)    Induc- 
tive teach- 
ing 


The  formal 
steps 


which  are  likely  to  recur  in  the  cases  where  the  generalizations 
are  to  be  used.  Education,  therefore,  while  it  emphasizes  the 
superior  importance  of  the  universal,  which  is  abstract,  cannot 
neglect  the  particular  with  which  it  is  connected  so  habitu- 
ally that  the  child  and  even  the  man  find  it  difficult  to  recall 
the  one  without  the  other. 

Four  general  principles  of  method  may  be  said  to  find  their 
logical  ground  in  this  principle  that  generalizations  are  more 
likely  to  be  recalled  when  derived  from  and  associated  with  a 
mass  of  concrete  associations  similar  to  the  situations  in  which 
they  are  likely  to  be  used.  These  are:  (i)  Concepts  should  be 
taught  inductively  ;  (2)  the  concepts  must  be  well  apperceived  ; 
(3)  the  schoolroom  environment  should  correspond  as  closely 
as  possible  to  that  of  life  ;  and  (4)  concepts  can  best  be  reached 
through  the  study  of  types.  The  inductive  method  of  teaching 
has  been  emphasized  by  educational  reformers  since  the  time 
of  Comenius.  It  received  a  formulation  by  the  Herbartians, 
as  the  formal  steps  in  teaching.  These  are  given  by  Professor 
Rein  as  preparation,  presentation,  comparison,  generalization, 
and  application.  Preparation  means  gathering  together  the 
knowledge  that  the  children  already  possess  on  a  given  subject. 
Presentation  means  putting  them  in  possession  of  new  concrete 
facts  relating  to  this  subject.  The  facts  will  naturally  be 
chosen  so  as  to  stir  up  curiosity  in  regard  to  their  explanation, 
and  will  lead,  when  they  are  explained,  to  principles  of  far- 
reaching  importance.  The  comparison  consists  of  the  presen- 
tation of  other  concrete  cases  illustrating  the  same  principles, 
so  that  these  common  concepts  may  be  forced  more  clearly 
upon  the  attention.  Then,  having  thus  carefully  prepared  the 
ground,  the  generalizations  are  made,  and  the  concepts  stated 
in  abstract  form.  Finally,  these  concepts  are  applied  to  explain 
new  cases,  and  thus  are  verified,  drilled  in  the  memory,  and 
familiarized  in  a  still  wider  variety  of  contexts. 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


265 


The  formal  steps  were  designed  not  only  that  the  concepts 
that  are  the  goal  of  education  may  be  derived  from  the  concrete 
instances,  but  also  that  whatever  is  learned  may  be  thoroughly 
interrelated  with  the  rest  of  the  contents  of  the  mind.  This,  of 
course,  means  apperception.  According  to  the  Herbartians,  if 
the  material  of  instruction  is  really  to  be  absorbed  so  that  it 
comes  to  interest  and  to  affect  the  will  and,  in  consequence,  to 
establish  character,  it  must  be  apperceived  or  thoroughly  as- 
similated. Apperception  means  in  the  step  of  preparation  the 
bringing  up  of  the  old  in  order  to  connect  it  with  the  new.  In 
comparison  it  means  organizing  experience  into  systems.  In 
generalization  these  systems  are  bound  faster  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  principle  that  connects  them.  In  application  a  still 
wider  field  of  experience  is  brought  within  the  net  of  appercep- 
tion. In  all  this  the  advantage  lies  in  insuring  recall.  So 
many  associations  are  established  that  a  given  item  of  thought 
can  scarce  escape  the  summons  to  consciousness  when  it  is 
needed.  The  associations  of  apperception  include,  of  course, 
as  their  chief  factor  the  fundamental  concepts.  But  there 
remains  a  vast  mass  of  mere  superficial  associations  which 
contribute  materially  to  one's  power  to  utilize  what  he  has 
learned,  and  these  the  instruction  that  aims  at  apperception 
does  not  neglect. 

Perhaps  the  completest  statement  of  the  principle  which  we 
are  discussing  is  to  be  found  in  the  rallying  cry  of  so  much  of 
modern  educational  reform;  namely,  that  the  school  should 
conform  to  life.  The  conditions  of  learning  should,  as  Pro- 
fessor Dewey  insists,1  conform  as  closely  as  possible  to  the 
conditions  of  application.  Apperception  not  only  should  con- 
nect the  new  with  the  old,  but  it  should  strive  to  connect  the 
new  with  that  which  is  yet  to  be.  But  what  is  yet  to  be  is  not 
altogether  determinate  in  character.  The  emergencies  of  life 
1  The  School  and  Society. 


(2)  Appercep- 
tion as  an 
aid  to  re- 
call, furnish- 
ing both 
fundamen- 
tal and  su- 
perficial as- 
sociations 


(3)  Conform- 
ity of  the 
school  to 
life 


266 


Principles  of  Education 


(4)    The  use 
of  the  type. 
Typical 
superficial 
associa- 
tions 


The  evalua- 
tion of  ex- 
perience. 
Selection  of 
typical 
cases 


are  unexpected  and  varied.  Hence  the  school,  in  endeavor- 
ing to  anticipate  them,  not  only  abstractly  but  concretely  as 
well,  must  typify  life  in  the  greatest  variety  of  representative 
situations.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  remodeling  of  the 
school  so  that  it  may  surround  the  child  with  an  environment 
like  that  in  which  he  lives  outside  school,  and  like  that  which  he 
will  occupy  when  his  school  days  are  over,  will  greatly  increase 
the  power  to  recall  and  to  use  what  this  institution  has  taught. 

But  while  it  is  important  that  principles  should  be  deduced 
from  the  concrete,  it  is  no  less  important  that  the  instances  that 
are  used  as  a  basis  of  induction  or  for  illustration  or  application 
should  be  selected,  typical.  The  type,  as  Professor  McMurry 
points  out,  is  the  link  between  the  concrete  and  the  generaliza- 
tion. It  is  that  concrete  instance  which  presents,  in  what  may 
be  styled  its  more  unessential  details,  similarity  to  the  widest 
range  of  cases  to  which  the  principle  in  question  applies.  In- 
struction through  typical  cases  preserves  the  advantage  of  an 
appeal  to  total  recall,  while  at  the  same  time  leading  inevitably 
to  that  vital  principle  which  it  is  the  function  of  all  recall  to 
bring  into  use. 

The  accumulation  of  mental  materials  involves,  in  addition 
to  experience  and  to  provision  for  its  recall,  a  differentiation 
of  the  contents  of  the  mind  on  the  basis  of  usefulness.  Ideas 
must  be  evaluated.  Resources  must  include  not  only  plans  of 
action,  but  also  standards  to  which  these  can  be  submitted  in 
being  judged.  The  initial  step  in  this  process  of  evaluation 
is  the  selection  of  typical  experience.  As  the  fund  of  experience 
grows,  certain  cases  inevitably  force  themselves  on  the  atten- 
tion as  typical.  They  can  be  used  again  and  again  as  a  basis  for 
the  interpretation  of  new  situations.  The  process  of  selecting 
typical  experience  is,  when  allowed  to  go  on  in  a  merely  natural 
way,  slow,  laborious,  and  replete  with  erroneous  valuations. 
The  primary  service  of  the  school  in  the  education  of  the  reason 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


267 


generaliza- 
tion as  a 
basis  for  a 
sense  of 
relative 
values  and 
power  of 
criticism 


lies  in  the  selection  of  the  concrete  experience  which  will  prove 
of  most  avail,  so  that  the  difficulties  of  learning  this  by  trial 
and  error  will  in  a  measure  be  smoothed  out. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  real  appreciation  of  relative  values  Training  in 
can  arise  only  from  a  sense  of  the  bad  consequences  of  following 
unreliable  standards  and  the  advantages  of  the  opposite  policy. 
One  cannot  realize  the  difference  that  exists  between  standards 
and  experience  that  is  not  appraised,  if  he  is  never  faced  with 
any  experience  that  is  not  standardized.  The  development  of 
judgment  is  in  proportion  to  the  clearness  with  which  one  is 
able  to  make  his  way  in  the  midst  of  the  suggestions  of  error 
toward  that  which  can  be  trusted.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to 
leave  the  child  to  flounder  along  without  help  till  judgment 
comes.  In  fact,  so  far  from  impeding  the  development  of  the 
critical  sense,  the  help  of  the  school  may  constitute  the  most 
favorable  condition  for  its  rise.  In  affording  typical  experi- 
ence and  in  cultivating  the  tendency  toward  generalization 
the  school  is  fostering  a  practice  which  lies  at  the  very  founda- 
tion of  all  criticism.  Only  in  the  form  of  a  concept  can  the 
relations  upon  which  the  conclusions  of  thought  are  based  be 
criticised  and  standardized.  In  all  learning  experimentation 
precedes  selection,  hypothesis  is  the  foundation  of  knowledge. 
Getting  the  child  into  the  attitude  of  generalization  is  to  do 
what  Socrates  tried  to  do  for  the  Greeks,  to  establish  a  definite 
starting  point  from  which  criticism  can  proceed  logically  with- 
out the  confusion  that  mere  reference  to  the  concrete  is  bound 
to  involve. 

The  important  thing  to  note,  so  far  as  method  is  concerned, 
is  that  while  judgment  must  be  a  result  of  personal  experience 
with  truth  and  error,  the  process  of  differentiating  the  two  is 
quickened  to  an  extraordinary  degree  by  the  clear  definition  of 
concepts,  and  by  such  assistance  as  enables  the  various  criteria 
of  truth  to  be  clearly  distinguished  and  applied.  Thus  the 


268 


Principles  of  Education 


Steps  in  the 


conscious- 
standards 


The  stand- 

ofthought 
as  a  check 


selected  experience  of  the  school,  instead  of  checking  criticism 
and  the  growth  of  a  sense  of  relative  values,  hastens  the  advent 
of  these  attitudes  by  putting  the  child  in  a  position  to  realize 
the  overwhelming  importance  of  the  evaluating  process.  The 
advantage  of  judgment  does  not  appear  great  so  long  as  judg- 
ment is  very  poor.  Increase  its  efficacy,  and  the  child  is  over- 
whelmingly convinced  of  its  need. 

The  first  step  in  the  differentiation  of  standards  is  the  selec- 
^on  °^  typical  experience  which  the  child  does  not  yet  realize 
to  be  typical.  The  second  step  is  the  formation  of  concepts. 
When  these  are  by  the  child  applied,  it  is  possible  for  him  more 
readily  to  separate  the  true  from  the  false  and  to  make  the 
proper  corrections.  This  one  may  call  the  third  step.  It  leaves 
the  child  with  a  mass  of  ideas  that  he  knows  to  be  reliable, 
which  stand  out  in  sharp  relief  against  the  untested  or  the  dis- 
proved. But  meanwhile  a  new  set  of  ideas  is  being  differenti- 
ated, defined,  applied,  and  tested.  These  are  the  criteria  of  the 
process  of  judgment  itself,  the  laws  of  consistent  thinking, 
the  empirical  and  the  rational  tests  of  truth,  the  principles  of 
quantitative,  spatial,  temporal,  and  causal  arrangement.  The 
school  leads  the  child  to  distinguish  these,  thereby  putting  him 
in  a  position  to  test  their  value  as  guides  to  practice. 

The  standardization  of  thought  tends  to  the  elimination,  the 
forgetting  of  that  which  does  not  conform.  It  thus  falls  in 
with  all  habit-forming  in  involving  a  loss  of  resources,  with, 
of  course,  a  corresponding  loss  of  originality,  resourcefulness, 
except  along  dependent  lines  of  progress.  An  individual,  a 
race,  or  an  age  may  fall  into  habits  of  thinking,  and  find  it  dif- 
ficult or  impossible  to  entertain  other  standards,  or  even  to 
think  outside  the  beaten  path.  Thus  mental  processes,  like 
physiological  ones,  tend  toward  an  adjustment  that  fits  the  en- 
vironment, and  when  this  environment  changes,  it  is  to  the  new 
generation,  with  its  capacity  for  variation  and  experimentation 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  269 

toward  different  standards  of  thought,  that  we  must  look  for 
readjustment.  It  is  possible  that  in  its  higher  reaches 
thought  has  attained  standards  that  will  always  apply. 
Doubtless,  philosophy  and  science  have  established  principles 
that  with  proper  application  constitute  an  universal  adjust- 
ment. Throughout  eternity  they  will  prove  safe  guides  to 
action.  Even  here,  however,  to  lose  the  sense  of  alternatives, 
to  think  mechanically,  is  likely  to  cause  one  to  apply  the  prin- 
ciple without  adequate  regard  to  special  conditions,  and  so  to 
fail  of  complete  success  in  its  use.  No  principle,  however 
universal,  can  be  satisfactorily  applied  without  regard  to  the 
specific  problem  in  hand.  Thus  habituation  is  ever  a  possible 
source  of  danger  to  the  proper  functioning  of  reason  and,  in- 
deed, of  all  readjusting  processes. 

In  resume,  we  may  say  that  the  accumulation  of  materials  Summary 
for  reasoning  begins  with  the  mere  acquisition  of  experience. 
It  is  well  that  this  experience  be  from  the  first  fairly  repre- 
sentative and  that  it  be  carried,  as  rapidly  as  is  consistent  with 
clearness,  on  to  the  stage  of  generalization.  The  concept 
represents  the  universal,  which  can  alone  be  applied  in  new 
cases.  It  represents  this  universal  in  an  abstract  form  which 
can  be  definitely  apprehended  and  criticised.  But  mere  ab- 
stractions not  derived  from  and  widely  illustrated  in  the  con- 
crete are  not  likely  to  be  recalled  when  they  are  needed.  The 
multitude  of  factors  entering  into  the  context  of  new  situations 
distract  the  mind,  and  lead  it  far  from  the  principle  which  it 
seeks,  unless  they  are  similar  to  the  contexts  in  which  the 
principle  was  learned.  Resourcefulness  requires  attention  to 
this  principle  of  total  recall.  From  the  point  of  view  of  method, 
it  leads  to  the  inductive  method  of  teaching,  regard  for  apper- 
ception, making  the  school  environment  similar  to  life,  and 
the  use  of  types. 

As  the  experience  that  is  necessary  to  provide  resources  for 


2/0 


Principles  of  Education 


reasoning  is  being  acquired,  the  standards  of  judgment  may 
also  be  given.  The  steps  preparatory  to  the  appreciation  of 
these  are  familiarity  with  typical  experiences  and  generaliza- 
tion. Then  comes  the  step  of  application,  in  which  the  critical 
sense  is  roused,  and  truth  is  separated  from  falsehood.  Lastly, 
with  the  help  of  the  school,  the  principles  of  judgment,  by 
which  hypotheses  may  be  tested  and  standardized,  are  them- 
selves lifted  into  consciousness  and  criticised,  with  a  correspond- 
ing increase  both  in  availability  and  accuracy  of  use. 


Relation  of 
the  atti- 
tudes of 
originality 
and 
criticism 


SECTION  31.     The  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes 

There  remains  the  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes,  the 
attitude  of  originality  and  that  of  criticism.  The  one  involves 
the  power  to  summon  up  one's  resources  in  a  comprehensive 
way,  even  though  they  do  not  at  first  sight  commend  them- 
selves as  especially  appropriate  ;  the  other  means  caution  and 
the  constant  sense  of  need  that  all  decisions  should  be  justified 
by  fact  and  reason,  in  so  far  as  this  is  possible.  As  distin- 
guished from  a  well-stored  mind,  an  original  mind  is  one  that 
has  confidence  in  its  possessions,  and  boldness  and  energy  in 
utilizing  them.  It  is  a  mind  that  is  capable  of  getting  away 
from  the  point  long  enough  to  see  if  there  are  not  new  and  more 
effective  ways  of  hitting  it.  Thus  the  secret  of  originality  is 
to  be  found  in  wise  digression,  a  digression  that  is  kept  from 
mere  mind  wandering  by  the  constant  recurrence  of  a  critical 
attitude  that  compels  the  thinker  to  refer  the  current  of  his 
thought  back  to  the  problem  from  which  it  began.  That  the 
attitude  of  originality  may  be  assumed,  that  of  criticism  must  be 
temporarily  in  abeyance.  That  originality  may  be  brought  under 
control,  the  attitude  of  criticism  must  forthwith  be  resumed. 
Thus  the  two  attitudes  may  work  in  harmony,  and  render  their 
possessor  both  brilliant  in  suggestion  and  sane  in  decision. 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


271 


The  essence  of  the  attitude  lies  in  certain  habits  and  asso- 
ciated feelings,  which,  when  aroused,  stimulate  both  the  imag- 
ination and  the  judgment.  They  accomplish  this  result  by 
directing  the  attention  properly.  The  feeling  accompanying 
the  active  attack  of  attention  upon  any  field  of  experience  is 
called  interest.  Interest  is  feeling,  but  that  peculiar  feeling 
which  goes  with  the  forward  movement  of  thought.  Atten- 
tion and  the  associated  interest  are,  in  great  measure,  the 
outcome  of  certain  motor  adjustments  that  throw  the  mind 
into  the  attitude  most  favorable  to  the  perception  of  certain 
objects,  to  the  recall  of  experience,  or  to  the  analyses  and  com- 
parisons of  reason.  These  motor  adjustments  are  quite  evi- 
dent where  attention  is  turned  toward  perception  through 
the  senses.  They  are  not  quite  so  apparent,  yet  no  less  un- 
mistakably present,  when  one  concentrates  upon  a  train  of 
thought.  One  composes  his  mind  to  reflect.  This  means  the 
activity  of  a  number  of  habits  that  shut  out  distracting  stimuli 
and  encourage  the  activity  of  the  brain. 

The  motor  adjustments  through  which  the  attitudes  are 
invoked  are  themselves  the  habitual  responses  to  certain 
classes  of  situations.  Where  it  is  plainly  a  matter  of  vision, 
the  eyes  are  accommodated,  and  the  mind  turns  toward  the 
business  of  seeing.  Where  the  situation  demands  the  recall  of 
a  definite  past  experience,  all  the  adjustments  favor  the  shut- 
ting out  of  distracting  perceptions,  the  inhibiting  of  futile 
lines  of  thought,  and  the  encouragement  of  such  associations 
as  seem  likely  to  lead  to  the  desired  idea.  When  one  reasons, 
the  situation  that  provokes  the  attitude  is  the  emergency,  the 
problem.  Such  a  situation  may  become  associated  with  spe- 
cific adjustments  that  favor  adventurous  thinking  followed  by 
sharp  criticism. 

The  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes  means,  then,  habit- 
uation  in  certain  adjustments  that  tend  to  release  the  activities 


The  attitudes 
based  on 
attention 
and  inter- 
est, and  on 
the  motor 
adjust- 
ments 
back  of 
these 


Habitual 
character 
of  these 
motor  ad- 
justments 


272 


Principles  of  Education 


Method  of 
cultivating 
such  habits. 
Value  of 
the  prob- 
lem 


Conditions 
under 
which  a 
problem 
excites 
interest. 

Immediate 
and  medi- 
ate interest 


of  imagination  and  to  protect  them  against  distraction,  while 
at  the  same  time  they  provoke  caution,  a  sense  of  the  business 
in  hand,  which  keeps  thought  from  wandering  too  far  afield 
without  at  the  same  time  paralyzing  its  activities.  The  school 
knows  no  way  of  training  in  these  adjustments  except  by  con- 
stantly throwing  the  child  into  the  situation  that  requires 
reasoning,  and  by  helping  him  to  realize  the  value  of  the  atti- 
tudes that  favor  the  getting  of  results.  The  reasoning  situa- 
tion is  the  new  situation,  the  emergency,  the  problem.  To  cul- 
tivate power  to  reason  the  school  is  wont  to  cast  its  work  in  the 
form  of  problems  to  be  solved.  But  to  be  effective  the  prob- 
lems must  be  real,  and  this  requires  that,  on  the  one  hand,  they 
should  seem  important  enough  to  warrant  the  effort  required  for 
their  solution,  and,  on  the  other,  that  the  child  should  be  able 
to  meet  them  with  the  knowledge  at  his  command. 

If  a  problem  is  regarded  as  worth  while,  it  at  once  becomes 
interesting.  If  it  is  a  problem  that  admits  of  immediate  so- 
lution by  the  resources  of  the  child,  the  interest  is  called  by 
Professor  Dewey  immediate.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the  in- 
strumentalities by  which  a  problem  is  to  be  solved  are  to  be 
mastered  only  after  long  effort,  the  interest  in  that  effort  is 
mediate  interest.  Mediate  interest  is  the  interest  in  work ; 
immediate  interest  finds  its  home  in  activities  worth  while  for 
their  own  sake.  In  general,  these  are  represented  by  play. 
The  problems  of  play  are  usually  simpler  than  those  of  work, 
and  they  do  not  require  such  long-continued  effort.  It  fol- 
lows that  in  work  the  importance  of  what  is  to  be  done  must 
be  felt  to  be  great.  The  rule  is  that  the  task  must  be  felt  to 
be  worth  while  in  proportion  to  the  intensity  and  the  per- 
sistence of  the  effort  it  demands  in  doing  things  that  are  merely 
instrumental.  In  work  the  issue  of  motive  becomes  of  prime 
importance.  Mediate  interest  involves  more  powerful  mo- 
tives than  does  immediate  interest. 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


273 


Of  course,  all  work  does  not  take  the  form  of  a  problem. 
It  may  not  involve  any  new  situation,  any  summoning  of  one's 
resources  to  cope  with  the  unforeseen.  But  whether  it  in- 
volves a  problem  with  its  appeal  to  the  self-activity  of  the 
individual,  or  simply  requires  mere  mechanical  drudgery,  mo- 
tive is  of  first  importance.  To  insure  a  downright  assump- 
tion of  the  reasoning  attitude  the  emergency  presented  must 
interest,  must  seem  worth  while.  Moreover,  the  teacher  must 
note  that  the  character  of  the  emergency  depends  on  the  di- 
rection of  the  interest,  or  on  the  thing  that  is  regarded  as 
worth  while.  If  the  real  problem  is  felt  to  be  merely  that  of 
meeting  the  requirements  of  the  teacher  or  of  the  book,  the 
wits  of  the  child  may  address  themselves  to  quite  a  different 
set  of  devices  than  would  pass  in  review  in  case  this  problem 
were  interpreted  according  to  the  intention  of  its  framer,  as 
related  to  the  larger  necessities  of  life  and  to  be  taken  at  its 
face  value.  In  such  cases  the  child  studies  not  to  learn  about 
something,  but  to  recite  in  a  satisfactory  way.  The  exercises 
in  arithmetic  become  endeavors  to  get  the  answer  of  the  book, 
not  to  find  out  a  fact  that  has  relation  to  real  life.  Such  prob- 
lems may  be  called  not  genuine  but  counterfeit,  for  the  situa- 
tion with  which  they  face  the  child  is  not  the  one  that  they  are 
supposed  to  present. 

The  use  of  the  problem  as  the  form  of  educating  the  reason 
has  been  especially  characteristic  of  education  in  modern 
times.  It  may  be  said  to  be  the  largest  outcome  of  educa- 
tional reform  in  the  direction  of  method,  and  its  advent  means 
the  conscious  endeavor  to  give  to  the  child  not  merely  the 
fixed  adjustments  of  recapitulatory  education,  but  also  the 
capacity  to  readjust  that  springs  from  reason  and  its  culture. 
In  general,  the  educational  principle  that  has  been  put  forward 
as  representing  the  issue  is  that  learning  should  stir  up  the 
self-activity  of  the  child,  that  the  child  should  learn  from  his 


Necessity  of 
motive  in 
work. 
Character 
of  the 
problem 
dependent 
on  the 
motive 


The  use  of 
the  prob- 
lem in 
modern 
education 


274 


Principles  of  Education 


Self-teaching 
not  an  ade- 
quate edu- 
cational 
method. 
Two  lines 
along 
which 
method 
has  been 
improved 


(i)  Improve- 
ment of  in- 
struction. 
From 
lecture 
to  devel- 
opment 


own  experience  and  efforts,  not  from  those  of  the  teacher;  in 
other  words,  that  the  most  effective  teaching  is  self-teaching. 
Stated  in  its  most  extreme  form  without  amendment,  this 
principle  leaves  no  ground  for  the  work  of  the  teacher  and  the 
school.  We  are  committed  to  the  negative  or  "let  alone" 
education  of  Rousseau,  at  any  rate  so  far  as  the  cultivation 
of  rationality  is  concerned.  With  such  a  conception  Rous- 
seau himself  is  inconsistent,  as  is  evidenced  by  his  description 
of  the  ideal  education  of  Emile.  In  the  endeavor  to  give  posi- 
tive assistance  in  cultivating  the  rational  attitudes,  the  school 
has  proceeded  along  two  lines.  On  the  one  hand,  it  has 
modified  old-fashioned  methods  by  which  the  teacher  was 
wont  to  give  instruction,  and,  on  the  other,  it  has  changed  the 
form  of  the  study  of  the  child. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  methods  of  instruction,  the 
attempt  to  cultivate  the  power  to  reason  has  led  to  the  sub- 
stitution for  the  method  of  lecture,  or  of  direct  imparting  of 
information,  that  of  discussion,  or  better,  of  development. 
Not  that  the  lecture  has  been  abandoned,  but  that  it  has  come 
to  be  felt  that  any  points  which  can  be  covered  by  the  ex- 
perience already  gained  by  the  pupil  should  be  left  to  him  to 
answer  by  making  use  of  his  resources.  Development  consists 
essentially  in  getting  a  problem  before  the  class,  and  extracting 
the  solution  from  them.  It  is  the  Socratic  method,  and 
although  it  is  not  necessarily  founded  on  the  Platonic  theory 
that  true  knowledge  is  of  ideas  that  are  innate  and  need  only 
the  proper  suggestions  in  order  to  be  recalled  to  mind,  it  does 
assume  that  very  commonly  a  pupil  feels  entirely  ignorant 
upon  a  question  when  in  reality  he  possesses  abundant  ex- 
perience from  which  to  draw  an  answer,  if  only  he  would  use  it. 
Such  a  method  is  therefore  primarily  an  attempt  to  stimulate 
the  pupil  to  use  his  resources.  It  aims  directly  at  what  we 
have  called  originality,  or  at  that  attitude  which  refuses  to 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


275 


mcnt  les- 
sons should 
cultivate 
both  logi- 
cal atti- 
tudes 


stand  paralyzed  when  a  new  situation  appears,  but  immedi- 
ately looks  within  and  sets  going  the  machinery  of  imagina- 
tion in  the  confident  hope  that  some  adequate  solution  will 
thereby  be  found. 

The  first  effect  of  the  method  of  development  lies  in  pro-  Deveiop- 
voking  self-activity,  spontaneity,  originality.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  may  and  should  help  to  cultivate  the  critical  attitude 
as  well.  This  result  is,  however,  secondary,  and  may  not  be 
gained.  Herein  lies  the  principal  criticism  that  is  urged 
against  the  employment  of  the  method  of  development.  It 
is  that  such  exercises  tend  to  become  mere  guess  work.  The 
sting  of  this  objection  lies  not  in  the  statement  that  the  pupils 
guess,  but  rather  in  that  it  is  implied  that  this  is  all  they  do. 
The  development  method  should  aim  to  cultivate  a  habit  of 
guessing,  if  by  this  we  mean  advancing  a  tentative  answer  for 
critical  review  or  experimental  verification.  But  it  is,  indeed, 
an  imperfect  method  if  it  does  not  aim  to  include  in  the  labor 
of  the  pupil  the  task  of  deliberately  subjecting  his  guess  to  his 
own  judgment  or  to  a  test  in  giving  which  he  himself  plays  an 
important  part.  Spontaneity  and  fertility  of  suggestiveness 
must  be  supplemented  by  caution  and  careful  reflection.  A 
class  should  not  be  led  wholly  to  rely  on  the  decisions  of  the 
teacher,  but  should  itself  subject  its  answers  to  a  test  of  rela- 
tive value.  Development  should  terminate  in  discussion  and 
criticism.  Thus  the  mere  guess,  or  utterly  thoughtless  and 
inept  answer,  will  be  ruled  out,  and  those  who  indulge  in  such 
efforts  subjected  to  repressive  forces,  such  as  loss  of  prestige, 
ridicule,  etc.  The  critical  attitude  should  not  be  cultivated 
so  rigorously  as  to  paralyze  the  confidence,  but  without  proper 
attention  to  it  the  method  of  development  becomes  very  loose 
and  slipshod. 

When  we  turn  to  methods  of  learning  or  study  on  the  part 
of  the  child,  we  find  that  the  older  requirement  of  a  set  task 


276 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  Improve- 
ment of 
study. 
Kinds  of 
problems : 
(a)   Prob- 
lems in 
mathe- 
matics 


Real  ver- 
sus formal 
problems 


of  memorizing  has  been  largely  replaced  by  exercises  that 
present  problems  which  appeal  to  the  intelligence.  The  sub- 
ject of  arithmetic  readily  came  to  consist  largely  of  problems 
to  be  solved  rather  than  tables  and  rules  to  be  committed  to 
memory.  The  same  transformation  has  gone  on  to  a  consid- 
erable degree  in  other  departments  of  mathematics,  with  a 
great  resulting  gain  in  their  effectiveness  as  agencies  for  the 
culture  of  rational  attitudes.  There  is,  however,  a  criticism  to 
be  made  upon  much  of  the  problem  work  in  mathematics. 
It  is  abstract  and  unreal,  and  in  consequence  formal.  Couched 
in  concrete  terms,  it  yet  fails  to  have  real  significance  to  the 
pupil.  It  does  not  represent  a  real  situation,  but  only  the  pre- 
tense of  this.  Thus  the  resources  that  are  evoked  to  help  in 
the  solution  are  the  formal  stock  ideas  that  spring  from  the 
textbook  rather  than  from  life.  Moreover,  the  criticism  is 
formal,  so  formal  that  it  almost  seems  as  though  the  critical 
attitude  were  not  assumed.  The  problem  may  be  utterly 
ridiculous  from  the  point  of  view  of  concrete  experience,  yet 
if  it  presents  a  mathematically  logical  appearance,  its  absurd- 
ity in  other  respects  will  be  unnoted.  If  a  class  were  asked 
how  many  elephants  weighing  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
each  would  balance  one  man  weighing  two  tons,  a  large  pro- 
portion of  them  would  proceed  to  solve  it  in  all  seriousness. 
So  long  as  this  is  possible,  one  can  say  that  the  problem  not  only 
fails  to  connect  the  arithmetic  with  life  in  such  a  way  that  it 
will  be  recalled  and  used  in  later  real  emergencies,  but  also  that 
it  fails  to  cultivate  in  the  broadest  way  the  rational  attitudes. 
In  linguistic  work  the  tasks  of  interpretation  and  translation 
may  be  said  to  present  problems  of  study  to  the  pupil,  but 
composition  possesses  the  largest  possibilities,  and  has  been 
utilized  of  recent  years  in  connection  not  only  with  the  study 
of  language  and  literature,  but  also  as  a  means  of  putting 
together  the  results  of  investigation  or  thought  in  practically 


The  Education  of  the  Reason 


277 


any  field.  Essay  writing,  in  which  an  endeavor  is  made  to 
deal  with  certain  large  problems  through  resources  obtained 
from  library  study,  from  reflection,  or  from  any  other  sort  of 
research,  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  most  fruitful  means  of 
throwing  the  child  into  the  reasoning  attitudes.  However,  in 
spite  of  its  remarkable  adaptability,  the  writing  of  essays 
may  degenerate  into  the  most  mechanical  sort  of  an  exercise. 
Too  frequently  the  topic  for  the  essay  is  a  purely  formal  one, 
not  vitally  connected  with  any  living  issue  in  the  mind  of  the 
learner.  Compositions  are  written,  not  to  meet  some  end  for 
which  written  language  is  primarily  intended,  but  merely  to 
satisfy  a  schoolroom  requirement.  Words  are  strung  to- 
gether, but  genuine  originality  and  criticism  are  both  lacking, 
because  the  situation  lacks  such  connection  with  life  beyond 
the  school  as  to  make  it  a  real  problem.  When  the  composi- 
tions are  intended  for  no  eyes  except  those  of  the  teacher, 
they  are  especially  apt  to  become  formal.  In  general,  essays 
should  be  concerned  with  the  genuine  problem  of  putting 
before  an  audience  certain  results  of  individual  investigation 
in  which  all  are  interested. 

Laboratory  work  in  science  presents  a  third  important 
method  of  utilizing  the  problem  in  the  tasks  of  the  pupil.  It 
finds  its  greatest  value  not  so  much  because  it  emphasizes  the 
ideas  that  are  learned,  as  that  it  helps  the  reason,  first  by  pre- 
senting the  principles  in  the  concrete  associations  in  connec- 
tion with  which  they  are  apt  to  be  needed,  thus  furthering  re- 
call, and  second,  by  cultivating  the  rational  attitudes.  This 
last  advantage  does  not  become  great,  however,  so  long  as  the 
pupil  merely  follows  directions.  It  is,  doubtless,  true  that  our 
laboratories  are  to-day  very  largely  places  of  demonstration 
rather  than  of  research.  Where  this  is  the  case,  whatever  may 
be  said  about  the  value  of  the  knowledge  gained,  the  rational 
attitudes  receive  no  especial  encouragement. 


(6)  Prob- 
lems of 
transla- 
tion and 
interpreta- 
tion. 
Essay 
writing. 
Danger 
of  for- 
malism 


(f)  Labora- 
tory work. 
Its  values 


278 


Principles  of  Education 


(d)    Con- 
structive 
work. 
Relative 
value  of 
this  and 
language 
work 


Dominance 
of  the 
teacher  in 
develop- 
ment work 


Lastly,  we  may  note  constructive  work  as  offering  a  fine  op- 
portunity for  the  introduction  of  the  problem.  So  large  a 
part  of  the  work  of  mankind  consists  in  manual  constructions 
that  the  reformers  of  to-day  have  sometimes  thought  that 
this  work  should  be  made  central  in  the  school  rather  than  the 
linguistic  work  which  constitutes  its  traditional  core  of  instruc- 
tion. Working  with  the  hands  has  been  contrasted  with 
speech  and  writing,  much  to  the  discredit  of  the  latter.  How- 
ever, there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  leading  interest  of  man- 
kind will  continue  to  be  that  of  cooperating  with  society.  For 
this  end  the  humanities  constitute  the  special  preparation, 
and  hence  must  far  outweigh  in  importance  constructive 
work.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  constructive  work  may  consist 
merely  in  following  directions,  and  hence  offer  no  problem 
to  the  reason.  On  the  other  hand,  it  lends  itself  admirably  to 
individual  tasks  in  the  school,  and  so  to  problems  in  which  each 
child  is  cast  upon  his  own  resources. 

When  we  compare  the  common  difficulties  that  beset  the 
teacher  in  the  use  of  the  method  of  development  with  those 
that  he  encounters  in  getting  children  to  do  independent 
work,  we  find  an  interesting  contrast.  To  avoid  the  omni- 
present danger  of  uncritical  guesswork  the  teacher  is  apt  to 
develop  a  point  by  asking  very  definite  and  detailed  questions, 
thus  keeping  the  progress  of  the  thought  of  the  class  firmly 
in  his  own  grasp.  Thereby  time  is  saved,  and  results  are 
gained  in  the  way  of  covering  certain  ground  that  has  to  be 
mastered.  However,  the  dominance  of  the  teacher  in  such 
exercises  means  a  corresponding  loss  of  rational  attitude  on 
the  part  of  the  pupil.  The  questions  are  too  detailed  to 
permit  free  play  either  to  resourcefulness  or  to  judgment. 
The  child  hangs  on  the  suggestions  of  the  teacher  without  fac- 
ing any  independent  problem,  and,  instead  of  making  up 
his  mind  on  the  basis  of  his  own  knowledge,  waits  for  the 


The  Education  of  the  Reason  279 

dictum   that  will   soon  come  from  the  same  authoritative 
source. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  the  matter  of  study,  if  assignments  Difficulty  in 
really  aim  to  set  the  pupil  to  reasoning,  and  not  merely  to      seating 

*  problems 

prescribe  a  certain  content  to  be  mechanically  mastered,  they  for  study 
are  apt  to  present  problems  that  to  the  child  seem  extremely 
large  in  scope  and  indefinite  in  character.  The  result  is  that 
study  becomes  ill  directed,  uncritical,  and  results  either  in 
mere  random  effort  or  in  mechanical  compliance  with  what- 
ever in  the  assignment  admits  of  such  an  attitude.  A  problem 
is  much  more  difficult  to  comprehend  clearly  than  the  ordinary 
task  for  memorizing,  and  it  is  much  easier  to  know  when  the 
latter  task  is  completed  than  to  judge  accurately  regarding  a 
solution  of  the  former.  Of  course,  when  the  results  are  given 
back  to  the  teacher,  his  criticisms  afford  to  the  pupil  a  chance 
to  see  where  his  efforts  were  misdirected  or  inadequate,  and 
gradually  he  may  gain  power  to  apprehend  what  is  required  in 
the  problems  assigned  him.  Yet  it  is  safe  to  say  that  a  very 
large  part  of  a  child's  effort  at  study  is  hopeless  floundering.1 
This  the  teacher  feels,  and  as  a  result  relies  more  and  more  on 
development  lessons  as  the  sole  means  of  cultivating  the 
reason,  assigning  for  study  merely  mechanical  lessons.  In 
other  words,  the  child's  power  to  think  is  offered  an  oppor- 
tunity only  in  the  presence  of  the  teacher  and  in  response  to 
detailed  problems  that  afford  little  scope  for  the  reasoning  at- 
titudes. 

The  development  lesson,  therefore,  is  apt  to  put  the  child  in  Need  of  cor- 
close  dependence  upon  the  leadership  of  the  teacher  ;    while 


study  assignments  are  likely  to  offer  problems  too  indefinite      and  study 
for  the  child  to  grasp  and  treat  adequately.     What  is  needed 
is  larger  problems  in  development  and  more  definite  ones  in 

1  Compare  Earhart,  Teaching  Children  to  Study;  McMurry,  II  ow  to  Study, 
Ch.  I. 


280  Principles  of  Education 

study.  All  this  requires  that  the  art  of  selecting  and  formu- 
lating problems  should  be  the  chief  concern  in  the  cultivation 
of  the  rational  attitudes.  Doubtless,  the  problem  of  the  de- 
velopment lessons  should  lead  into  that  of  the  study  lesson,  or 
at  least  help  the  child  to  realize  the  character  of  the  latter  and 
the  sort  of  effort  that  it  demands.  The  genuine  problem,  that 
is,  the  problem  that  corresponds  to  life,  should  predominate 
over  the  merely  formal  problems  of  the  school.  Finally,  and 
more  important  than  all,  the  child  should  be  specifically 
trained  in  the  art  of  study. 

class  instruc-  The  growth  of  graded  schools  and  of  class  instruction, 
thTdedine  togetner  with  the  professional  training  of  teachers  along  the 
of  study  lines  of  method  of  presentation,  have  made  instruction  revolve 
about  the  efforts  of  the  teacher  rather  than  those  of  the  child. 
Our  methods  are  not  as  wooden  as  of  yore,  yet  there  is  grave 
reason  to  suspect  that  they  have  given  the  child  too  little  op- 
portunity and  need  for  sustained  independent  thinking.  Re- 
cent emphasis  on  the  art  of  study  by  those  who  have  been 
leaders  in  perfecting  the  teacher's  art  of  presenting  material * 
indicate  very  plainly  that  the  interest  in  school  method  is  be- 
ginning to  turn  from  methods  of  teaching  to  methods  of 
learning,  from  the  art  of  the  teacher  to  that  of  the  child.  For 
this  result  the  newer  psychology,  with  its  study  of  methods 
of  learning  and  its  emphasis  on  motive  and  function,  is  partly 
responsible.  In  a  larger  sense,  however,  it  is  the  inevitable 
forward  tendency,  the  grappling  with  the  next  sequent  prob- 
lem in  regard  to  the  cultivation  of  the  reason. 

Training  in  The  new  interest  in  the  art  of  study  should  be  coupled  with 
means  Eofa  recent  endeavors  to  segregate  the  individual  from  the  class, 
segregating  and  to  deal  with  him  apart  from  the  mechanisms  by  which 
*'  teacher  and  school  must  of  necessity  handle  larger  groups. 
Whatever  device  of  school  management  proves  most  effective 
1  Especially  Professor  F.  M.  McMurry. 


TJie  Education  of  the  Reason  281 

in  enabling  the  child  to  be  treated  as  an  individual  instead  of 
as  a  mere  fragment  of  a  class,  it  is  plain  that  the  inculcation  of 
the  art  of  study  must  prove  its  most  important  auxiliary. 
For  this  means  that  much  of  the  time  that  to-day  is  spent  on 
the  presentation  of  material  to  classes  can  by  children  trained 
in  independent  study  be  quite  as  profitably  given  to  individual 
work,  over  which  the  teacher  assumes  only  general  supervision. 
Thus  the  school  will  become  less  a  place  of  teaching  classes,  and 
more  one  of  directing  individuals  to  do  independent  work. 
Armed  with  a  larger  power  of  seeing  the  significance  of  things, 
the  pupil  may  make  the  problems  of  mathematics,  of  language 
and  composition,  of  the  laboratory,  and  of  constructive  work 
bear  upon  the  solution  of  the  larger  problems  of  life.  Thus 
the  assignment  will  come  to  make  an  intenser  appeal  to  the 
reason  and  to  the  independent  activity  of  the  pupil. 

The  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes  sums  itself  up,  Summary 
then,  in  training  in  certain  habits  or  adjustments  that  with 
their  associated  feelings  project  the  attention  toward  the 
mental  resources,  and  suffuse  the  consequent  thinking  with  a 
sense  of  its  purpose  and  the  importance  of  a  critical  adherence 
to  it.  The  feelings  that  accompany  attention  are  ordinarily 
called  interest,  which  may  be  classed  as  immediate  in  case  the 
problem  that  attention  faces  admits  of  an  immediate  solution, 
or  as  mediate  when  it  involves  work,  or  the  use  of  persistent 
effort  to  master  instrumentalities  not  in  themselves  worth 
while  or  interesting.  Mediate  interest  demands  more  intense 
motivation  than  does  immediate  interest.  To  cultivate  the 
rational  attitudes  the  school  must  present  problems  to  the 
child.  These  will  be  genuine,  interesting,  and  so  lead  to  rea- 
soning in  proportion  as  they  seem  worth  while,  or  are  con- 
nected with  concrete  living  issues.  If  we  divide  the  work  of  the 
school  into  the  instruction  of  the  teacher  and  the  study  of  the 
child,  the  problem  has  been  applied  in  the  former  by  the  use 


282  Principles  of  Education 

of  the  method  of  development  and  discussion,  and  in  the  latter 
especially  by  incorporation  in  such  activities  as  mathematical 
problems,  composition  of  various  kinds,  laboratory  and  con- 
structive work.  To  save  guessing  and  mind  wandering  and 
to  economize  time,  teachers  have  made  development  consist 
in  detailed  problems  that  do  little  to  provoke  the  rational  at- 
titudes. Thus  instruction  has  tended  to  center  about  the 
teacher,  whose  grip  on  the  progress  of  thought  in  the  classroom 
has  done  much  to  organize  and  clarify  thought,  but  little  for 
the  cultivation  of  the  rational  attitudes.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  assignment  of  work  for  independent  study  has,  from  want 
of  careful  attention,  wavered  between  the  indefinite  problem 
and  the  prescription  of  certain  activities  to  be  performed  me- 
chanically. The  indefinite  problem,  because  it  cannot  be 
clearly  grasped  by  the  pupil  and  become  a  source  of  interest 
to  him,  gets  no  standard  results  satisfactory  to  the  teacher, 
and,  in  consequence,  it  tends  to  be  replaced  by  definite  pre- 
scriptions that  do  not  arouse  rational  attitudes.  The  desid- 
erata are  more  careful  attention  to  the  nature  of  the  problems 
used  in  instruction  and  the  formulation  and  teaching  of  the 
art  of  study.  The  problems  of  the  development  lesson  need 
to  be  made  larger  and  connected  with  those  of  study.  The 
problems  of  study  need  to  be  made  definite,  and  so  associated 
with  real  life  as  to  seem  worth  while.  Finally,  the  teaching 
of  the  art  of  study  may  be  expected  to  assist  in  breaking  up 
the  domination  of  class  teaching,  by  enabling  the  child  to  do 
more  effective  independent  work,  thus  relieving  the  teacher 
on  the  side  of  presenting  material,  and  enabling  more  atten- 
tion to  the  supervision  of  the  work  of  the  individual.  These 
changes  will  all  conspire  to  change  the  center  of  school  activ- 
ity from  the  teacher  to  the  child,  and  to  cultivate  the  rational 
attitudes  without  impairing  the  work  of  storing  the  mind  with 
resources. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   QUESTION   OF   FORMAL   DISCIPLINE 

SECTION  32.     The  history  of  the  conception  of  formal  discipline 

THE  idea  of  formal  discipline,  or  mental  training  through  Formal  dis- 
the  form  of  study,  is  intimately  associated  with  the  endeavor  the'effect 
to  cultivate  the  reason.  The  connection  of  the  two  may  of  the  form 

of  study 

easily  be  seen  when  formal  discipline  is  defined.  In  general, 
it  means  the  supposed  effect  of  study  upon  the  mind  entirely 
apart  from  the  content  of  what  is  learned.  This  effect  is  con- 
ceived to  be  so  great  and  so  important  that  many  teachers 
say  that  it  does  not  matter  so  much  what  we  study,  since  the 
vital  thing  is  how  we  study.  The  supposed  significance  of  dis- 
ciplinary effects  springs  from  the  fact  that  they  are  thought 
to  be  general  in  character  rather  than  merely  specific.  For 
example,  the  study  of  Latin  is  held  to  give  more  than  the 
power  of  feeling  at  home  in  its  vocabulary  and  constructions, 
and  so  of  being  able  to  learn  new  Latin  more  readily.  This 
further  gain  is  found  in  a  culture  of  one's  powers  of  observa- 
tion, memory,  reasoning,  criticism,  one's  sense  of  the  values 
and  uses  of  words.  So,  too,  manual  training  is  disciplinary, 
not  merely  in  that  it  teaches  how  to  plane  and  saw  and  how  to 
fit  joints  accurately,  but  also  in  that  through  it,  as  is  thought, 
the  hand  acquires  a  general  dexterity,  the  eye  a  keenness,  and 
the  mind  a  clearness  and  a  sense  of  the  value  of  accuracy  that 
are  useful  not  only  in  carpentering,  but  also  in  watchmaking 
or  in  playing  tennis  or,  indeed,  in  any  business  or  profession. 
Now  when  we  mean  by  formal  training  not  only  the  ac- 

283 


284 


Principles  of  Education 


quisition  of  specific  habits  useful  in  connection  with  certain 
lines  of  thought  or  action,  but  also  a  general  increase  in  power, 
it  is  evident  that  we  have  in  mind  a  culture  the  especial  value 
of  which  lies  in  that  it  enables  the  mastery  of  the  new,  the  un- 
expected. The  significance  of  general  mental  discipline  lies 
in  that  it  trains  a  faculty  supposed  to  be  independent  of  sub- 
ject matter,  and  hence  applicable  to  all  the  unpredictable 
emergencies  of  life.  In  brief,  formal  discipline  is  held  to  cul- 
tivate the  power  of  conscious  learning,  of  thinking,  or  of 
reasoning.  Indeed,  it  may  be  said  that  in  the  past  this  sort  of 
training  has  constituted  the  leading  method  by  which  the 
school  has  striven  to  increase  general  mental  power. 

If  we  refer  to  the  analysis  of  the  education  of  the  reason  con- 
tained in  the  last  chapter,  it  is  evident  that  formal  discipline 
does  not  concern  all  the  factors  involved.  By  virtue  of  being 
formal,  it  disclaims  any  attempt  to  enhance  the  resources  of 
thinking  or  to  build  up  standards  of  judgment.  Only  in  the 
cultivation  of  the  attitude  can  it  find  a  function.  These  at- 
titudes are,  as  we  have  seen,  based  on  definite  mental  and 
motor  adjustments  that  the  individual  may  be  trained  to  make. 
However,  the  disciplinarians  have  not  regarded  the  gain  from 
their  s'ort  of  education  to  be  limited  to  the  power  to  take  these 
attitudes.  They  have  assumed  that  discipline  affects  not  only 
the  power  to  call  up  one's  resources  and  to  be  critical,  not  only 
the  mastery  of  certain  methods  that  make  possible  a  most 
efficient  use  of  one's  mental  power  and  experience,  but  also 
mental  power  itself.  They  have  been  prone  to  think  that 
they  were  cultivating  mental  faculties,  the  functioning  of 
which  is  independent  of  specific  attitudes  or  habits. 

The  notion  of  formal  discipline  has,  therefore,  associated 
itself  quite  consistently  with  the  so-called  "faculty  theory." 
This  theory  has  already  been  considered  in  connection  with 
the  subject  of  Recapitulation,  and  need  not  here  be  described. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          285 


of  the  idea 
of  formal 
discipline 
with    the 
"faculty 
theory" 


Suffice  it  to  say  that,  when  observation,  memory,  reasoning,  Connection 
judgment,  and  will  are  supposed  to  be  perfectly  general  facul- 
ties that  can  busy  themselves  equally  well  with  any  sort  of 
content,  the  inference  is  inevitable  that  the  increase  in  one  of 
these  faculties  by  training  in  any  specific  field  will  show  itself 
without  loss  when  the  faculty  is  directed  toward  a  different 
material.  The  faculty  theory  bids  us  search  for  the  energy 
of  the  mind  not  in  its  experience,  the  living  force  of  its  ideas, 
but  in  the  manipulating  power  of  certain  abstract  agencies, 
that  express  themselves  in  clutching  and  transforming  the 
material  that  experience  presents  to  the  mind.  On  this  as- 
sumption, it  is  perfectly  logical  for  the  educator  to  assume 
that  it  is  far  more  important  to  strive  to  develop  the  efficiency 
of  these  powers  than  to  store  the  mind  with  material.  If 
education  can  improve  general  abilities,  it  is  evident  that  this 
is  what  it  should,  in  the  main,  aim  to  do.  The  merely  in- 
formed mind  is  bound  to  the  special  province  of  its  informa- 
tion. Within  these  limits  it  shows  power.  But  the  disciplined 
mind  is  conceived  to  possess  general  superiority.  One  can 
get  information  on  any  topic  when  needed,  but  he  cannot  thus 
on  occasion  get  the  power  that  comes  from  training.  Informa- 
tion gives  the  mind  material  that  it  may,  provided  it  possesses 
the  natural  talent,  use  in  certain  cases.  Discipline  is  thought 
to  improve  that  natural  talent  itself. 

Now  while  the  faculty  theory  does  not  of  necessity  involve 
one  in  the  belief  that  the  faculties  can  be  given  general  disci- 
pline, the  two  ideas  go  together,  and  in  history  they  have  al- 
most if  not  quite  invariably  been  held  in  conjunction.  What- 
ever supports  the  faculty  theory  has  been  regarded  as  an 
argument  for  general  discipline,  and,  vice  versa,  the  apparent 
existence  of  general  discipline  has  been  taken  to  substantiate 
the  faculty  theory. 

Two  main  classes  of  facts  lead  to  the  conception  of  mental 


286 


Principles  of  Education 


Arguments 
for  the 
"faculty 
theory  " 


Question  as 
to  whether 
general 
power  can 
be  im- 
proved 
by  culture 


faculties :  first,  the  mental  differences  between  men  and  men, 
and  men  and  brutes ;  second,  the  method  by  which  sensations 
are  obtained.  In  regard  to  the  first  class,  we  note  that  in- 
dividuals and  species  differ  from  each  other  in  the  quality  of 
their  minds.  The  effect  of  experience  depends  in  every  case 
upon  the  mental  ability  of  the  one  who  experiences.  Here, 
at  any  rate,  we  have  a  perfectly  general  power,  not  a  result  of 
culture,  but  rather  antecedent  to  it  and  a  condition  of  its  pos- 
sibility. The  facts  of  sensation  tend  to  suggest  that  this 
general  ability  may  be  specialized  into  faculties.  We  see  not 
merely  because  there  are  objects  to  be  seen,  but  because  we 
have  the  apparatus  for  vision.  Having  eyes  and  a  brain,  we 
possess  the  possibility  of  seeing  many  things.  It  is  natural  to 
suppose  that,  just  as  the  power  of  sensation  rests  back  on  the 
general  effectiveness  of-  the  apparatus  of  sense,  so  the  power 
of  thinking  depends  upon  the  general  effectiveness  of  memory, 
reasoning,  judgment,  etc. ;  that  is,  upon  the  faculties. 

It  is  further  evident  that  whatever  improves  the  general 
ability  creates  a  new  type  of  individual,  just  as  whatever  im- 
proves the  eye  adds  to  the  general  effectiveness  of  vision,  etc. 
However,  it  may  not  be  possible  by  education  to  improve 
native  talent  or  imperfect  eyes.  Indeed,  it  is  likely  that  cul- 
ture is  limited  to  the  mere  process  of  selecting  among  the  po- 
tentialities of  growth  those  that  should  be  encouraged  in  order 
to  insure  specific  adaptation  to  prevailing  conditions.  In 
that  event,  one  may  hold  to  the  faculty  theory,  at  least  in  one 
form,  and  yet  not  regard  disciplinary  effects  as  general.  Edu- 
cation may  simply  consist  in  direction,  such  as  permits  native 
power  to  develop  along  the  most  effective  lines. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  we  compare  the  intelligence  of  edu- 
cated and  uneducated  men  when  placed  in  similar  situations, 
the  view  that  on  the  average  the  former  have  greater  general 
ability  seems  almost  unavoidable.  Historically  the  educated 


The  Question  of  formal  Discipline          287 


classes  show  the  greatest  vigor  of  mind.  College  graduates 
average  better  success  in  life  than  those  who  have  not  enjoyed 
their  educational  advantages.  It  seems  fairly  evident  that  the 
educated  man  is  likely  to  deal  better  with  a  situation  concerning 
which  he  has  no  special  experience  than  is  an  uneducated  one. 
It  is,  however,  by  no  means  certain,  as  is  commonly  assumed, 
that  the  general  superiority  of  the  educated  classes  is  due  to 
their  education.  It  is  quite  possible  to  suppose  that  their 
ability,  so  far  from  being  a  result  of  their  education,  is  the 
reason  for  it.  Only  those  of  intellectual  power  can  take  in  an 
elaborate  culture.  It  may  be  that  college  graduates  tend  to 
succeed,  not  because  their  college  education  betters  their 
natural  talent,  but  solely  because  of  their  original  endowment, 
which,  among  other  things,  enabled  them  to  get  a  college 
education,  —  something  that  the  traditions  of  society  regard  as 
highly  desirable.  Undoubtedly,  well-educated  men  constitute 
a  class  selected  for  native  ability.  Hence  we  might  expect 
them  to  succeed  better  than  the  great  mass,  a  very  large  por- 
tion of  whom  are  uneducated  because  of  incapacity. 

However  questionable  the  faculty  theory  may  be,  and  how- 
ever doubtful  the  common  arguments  for  a  general  discipline 
of  the  mental  powers,  it  is  evident  that  these  notions  have 
prevailed  from  the  beginning  of  attempts  at  psychological 
analysis.  They,  therefore,  lie  ready  to  hand  for  emergencies 
when  they  are  needed  as  a  defense  for  courses  of  study  the 
specific  value  of  which  is  not  apparent.  In  general,  we  may 
distinguish  three  causes  for  the  existence  of  such  curricula.  In 
the  first  place,  the  school  is  apt  to  be  conservative,  to  cherish 
its  own.  Schoolmasters  are  wedded  to  their  subjects.  In  the 
second  place,  the  curriculum  that  meets  a  real  demand  in  one 
age  may  grow  obsolete  in  the  next,  and  the  schoolmaster  may 
be  forced  on  the  defensive  to  justify  his  practices.  Finally, 
as  society  advances,  since  progress  becomes  more  swift  and 


The  superior 
ability  of 
educated 
men  not 
shown  to 
be  due  to 
training 


Formal 
discipline 
as  a  de- 
fense of 
subjects  of 
doubtful 
utility 


288 


Principles  of  Education 


social  relations  more  flexible,  it  becomes  increasingly  difficult 
to  predict  for  the  boy  his  career  as  a  man,  and  so  the  school 
finds  it  constantly  harder  to  select  a  suitable  curriculum.  It 
is  easy  to  train  for  the  definite;  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
train  for  that  the  exact  nature  of  which  we  cannot  foresee. 

The  disciplinary  argument  may  be  used  to  defend  an  anti- 
quated program,  and  to  excuse  the  school  from  the  task  of 
finding  a  curriculum  that  in  its  content  can  be  shown  to  be  best 
adapted  to  composite  and  rapidly  changing  life.  If  the  mere 
exercise  of  the  faculties  improves  them,  then  it  does  not  matter 
whether  the  course  of  study  be  out  of  date ;  the  important 
thing  is  whether  it  is  hard,  whether  it  exercises  the  mind. 
Moreover,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  bother  about  trying  to  fore- 
cast the  uncertain  careers  of  the  pupils,  since,  whatever  they 
do,  they  will  need  above  all  the  mental  ability  which  discipline 
may  be  expected  to  give  them.  The  belief  in  formal  discipline 
saves  the  school  much  anxiety  and  laborious  effort. 

One  of  the  most  striking  instances  of  the  use  of  the  discipli- 
nary argument  is  as  a  justification  of  the  classical  secondary 
program  which  we  owe  to  the  Renaissance.  As  Latin  drifted 
curriculum  more  and  more  out  of  usage,  and  new  literatures  expanded, 
as  the  ancient  culture  ever  lost  ground  before  the  achievements 
of  the  newer  life,  or,  becoming  assimilated  therewith,  ceased 
to  require  so  much  special  training  of  those  who  would  utilize 
its  spirit,  but  wished  if  possible  to  avoid  the  labor  of  mastering 
its  form,  the  schoolmen  found  in  the  notion  of  the  training  of 
the  faculties  a  bulwark  of  defense  against  a  practical  world. 
Thus  their  beloved  specialties,  which  had  absorbed  most  of 
their  spiritual  life,  and  which  they  were  skilled  to  teach,  gained 
a  recommendation  for  men  who  saw  in  their  content  no  utility. 

In  the  last  century  the  disciplinary  argument  grew  to  be  the 
leading  support  of  existing  educational  practices.  Youmans, 
advocating  in  1867  the  reorganization  of  the  program  of  study 


Discipline 
as  the  ar- 
gument 
for  the 
classical 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          289 

in   secondary  and  collegiate  education  in  order  that  more 
science  might  be  introduced,  says  : 1  — 

"The  adherents  of  the  traditional  system  .  .  .  maintain 
that  knowledge  is  to  be  acquired  not  on  account  of  its  capability 
of  useful  application,  but  for  its  own  intrinsic  interest,  that 
the  purpose  of  a  liberal  education  is  not  to  prepare  for  a  voca- 
tion or  profession,  but  to  train  the  intellectual  faculties.  They, 
therefore,  hold  that  Mental  Discipline  is  the  true  object  of  a 
higher  culture,  and  that  for  its  attainment  the  study  of  the 
ancient  classics  and  mathematics  is  superior  to  all  other 
means." 

Again  the  Emperor  of  Germany  said  in  1892,  regarding  the 
advocates  of  the  existing  program  in  the  classical  gymnasia: — 

"If  any  one  enters  into  a  discussion  with  these  gentlemen 
on  this  point  and  attempts  to  show  him  that  a  young  man  ought 
to  be  prepared,  to  some  extent  at  least,  for  life  and  its  manifest 
problems,  they  will  tell  him  that  such  is  not  the  function  of  the 
school,  its  principal  aim  being  the  discipline  or  gymnastic  of 
the  mind,  and  that  if  this  gymnastic  were  properly  conducted, 
the  young  man  would  be  capable  of  doing  all  that  is  necessary 
in  life." 

In  the  progress  of  time  psychology,  which  in  its  earliest  state  Historic 
assumed  the  faculty  theory  and  countenanced  the  idea  of  formal      o"atchkes 
discipline,  broke  away  from  both.     Even  Locke,  who  by  Pro-      faculty 
fessor  Monroe 2  is  taken  as  the  typical  disciplinarian,  questions 
the  possibility  of  a  general  training  of  the  memory.3    The  first 
outspoken  rebellion  against  the  faculty  theory  was  that  of 
Herbart.     However,  the  way  for  Herbartianism  was  prepared 
by  Kant.     This  philosopher,  although  in  the  distinction  be- 
tween his  Critiques  of  Understanding,  Judgment,  and  Practical 
Reason,  or  Will,  he  gave  a  new  formulation  of  the  faculty 

1  Culture  demanded  by  Modern  Life:  Mental  Discipline  in  Education. 
*  Textbook  in  the  History  of  Education. 
3  Thoughts  on  Education, 
v 


290  Principles  of  Education 

theory,  nevertheless,  paved  the  way  for  a  new  theory  of  mind 
in  his  conception  of  the  a  priori  elements  in  experience.  Ac- 
cording to  the  notion  of  the  faculties,  the  sorts  of  consciousness 
are  results  of  the  manipulation  by  these  inner  powers  of  the 
material  given  by  sense.  To  observe  means  to  discriminate 
the  data  of  sense  by  separating  them  from  each  other.  To 
remember  is  to  retain  them.  Comparison,  abstraction,  associ- 
ation, reasoning,  judgment,  add  nothing  to  sensation.  They 
merely  arrange  the  materials  of  sense  in  a  different  manner; 
i)  Kant's  manufacture  it,  as  it  were,  into  new  forms.  But,  according  to 
formTas  Kant,  experiencing  means  that  the  mind  is  contributing  to  the 
a  substi-  objects  of  consciousness  something  that  is  definitely  recogniz- 
facuities  able  therein.  Perception  is  not  merely  sensation  plus  the 
reproduction  of  such  experience  as  gives  it  meaning.  It  is 
the  organization  of  the  manifold  of  sensation  by  forms  that 
enter  into  its  constitution,  transforming  into  experience  what 
would  otherwise  not  be  consciousness  at  all.  Mental  activity 
is  synthetic,  not  merely  analytic.  It  adds  to  sensation  space, 
time,  causal  relationship,  in  short,  all  the  categories  by  which 
relationship  may  be  expressed.  They  are  the  warp  of  expe- 
rience, and  the  material  coming  from  the  senses  is  the  woof. 
But  as  both  warp  and  woof  are  thread,  so  one  might  readily 
say  of  the  form  of  experience  that  it  too  is  content,  having  a 
somewhat  different  nature  and  function  from  the  stuff  that  it 
organizes  and  transforms  into  experience.  The  Kantian  a 
•priori  form  is  not  an  abstraction  that  intelligence  analyzes  out 
of  its  objects.  Rather  it  is  a  positive  factor  that  a  synthetic 
mind  adds  to  its  content,  as  the  breath  of  life  that  makes  it 
real  experience. 

Now  while  Herbart  rejects  the  Kantian  notion  of  the 
a  priori  forms,  he  clings  to  the  view  that  mental  activity  is  not 
the  manipulation  of  a  mental  content,  but  is  rather  the  fusion 
of  content  elements  themselves.  He  holds  that  what  lifts  the 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          291 

as  yet  unapprehended  idea  into  the  region  of  consciousness  is  (2)  Herbart's 
the  force  of  other  kindred  ideas  that  are  already  in  this  realm.  ^  ^^ 
To  attend  one  must  apperceive,  and  apperception  is  not,  as  thinking  of 

iclcus  bv 

with  Kant,  the  organization  of  a  content  by  an  a  priori  form,  ideas 
but  the  attention  to  new  ideas  because  they  are  related  to  old 
ones.  Such  attention  is  coincident  with  interest  and  compre- 
hension. Ideas  that  have  no  meaning  cannot  rouse  interest 
or  attention.  It  is  the  fusion  of  old  meanings  with  new  objects 
that  elevates  them  into  consciousness.  This  is  apperception, 
—  a  meeting,  not  of  a  content  with  a  form  which  is  essentially 
different  from  it,  though  capable  of  fusing  with  it,  but  rather 
of  one  content  with  other  contents,  having  the  same  general 
nature  and  origin,  but  differing  in  possessing  the  advantage 
of  being  before  attention. 

Thus  according  to  Herbart  we  have,  not  the  mind  and  its  Consequent 
ideas,  but  rather  just  the  ideas.  The  ideas  do  the  thinking.  oMormd 
The  interplay  of  thoughts  upon  each  other  is  the  activity  of  discipline 
consciousness.  Hence,  there  are  no  faculties  left.  Herbart 
saves  the  terminology  that  refers  to  them,  but  with  the  caution 
that  it  is  intended  to  indicate  various  phases  of  the  interaction 
of  ideas  upon  each  other,  and  not  in  any  sense  separate  powers 
of  a  mind  to  the  energies  of  which  this  interaction  is  supposed 
to  be  due.  With  the  faculty  theory  departs  the  notion  of 
formal  discipline,  which  has  no  place  in  the  pedagogy  of  Her- 
bart, or  in  that  of  his  disciples.  For  them  the  fundamental 
educational  conception  is  not  discipline  but  apperception. 
The  important  thing  for  a  teacher  to  know  is,  not  how  well 
drilled  a  child  is,  how  well  his  faculties  may  be  expected  to 
work,  but  what  experience  he  has  assimilated.  This  exploited, 
it  can  easily  be  seen  what  material  the  child  will  be  interested 
in,  understand,  and  assimilate.  Mental  power  is  a  function  of 
the  organized  experience  of  the  individual.  Organization  is 
inherent  in  the  material  itself,  and  not  a  result  of  its  manipu- 


Principles  of  Education 


Practical 
effect  of 
Herbar- 
tianism  in 
regard  to 
formal 
discipline 


Formal  dis- 
cipline as 
a  defense 
of  any 
program 


lation  by  a  mind,  or  of  the  imposition  upon  it  of  a  priori  forms. 
Since  form  is  dependent  upon  content,  all  studies  are  really 
content  studies,  and  it  is  idle  to  talk  of  the  disciplinary  value 
that  their  form  possesses  independently  of  their  subject  matter. 

But  the  influence  of  Herbartianism  was  not  primarily  thrown 
into  a  resolute  attempt  to  reform  the  curriculum,  —  except 
as  it  is  seen  in  the  culture-epoch  theory.  In  the  main,  the 
Herbartians  strove  to  improve  and  rationalize  method,  and 
only  incidentally  to  enrich  the  course  of  study.  Herbart  him- 
self valued  highly  both  classics  and  mathematics  ;  and  although 
this  estimate  was  based  on  a  regard  for  their  content,  it  is  only 
natural  that  the  implications  of  his  view  in  reference  to  that 
favorite  defense  of  such  work,  their  disciplinary  value,  should 
have  been  neglected  because  of  his  advocacy  of  the  subjects 
themselves.  Moreover,  the  influence  of  Herbartianism  has 
been  rather  restricted.  In  consequence,  the  disciplinary 
theory  grew  and  flourished,  until  new  educational  conditions 
arose  to  minimize  its  importance,  and  a  new  psychology,  of 
which  Herbart  may,  perhaps,  be  regarded  as  the  original  ex- 
positor, came  to  attack  again  the  faculty  theory  upon  which 
the  conception  of  formal  discipline  is  founded,  and  to  question 
through  its  experiments  the  facts  assumed  by  the  theory  itself. 

The  educational  condition  that  forced  the  doctrine  of  formal 
discipline  into  a  subordinate  position  was  the  actual  admission 
of  new  subjects  into  the  curriculum,  at  first  mainly  for  their 
content  and  their  utility.  In  order  to  maintain  and,  if  possible, 
to  increase  the  ground  thus  gained,  the  advocates  of  the  newer 
studies  insisted  that  these  were  just  as  valuable  for  discipline 
as  the  old  ones.  Thus  science  availed  itself  of  the  principal 
weapon  of  the  classics,  and  urged  its  superiority  for  the  reasons 
that  it  furnishes  just  as  good  discipline  as  they,  if  not  better, 
and  that  it  is  far  more  valuable  for  the  utility  of  its  content. 
Such  is  the  view  of  Spencer  and  of  Huxley  and  of  the  defenders 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          293 

of  science  generally,  as  well  as  of  those  large-minded  educators 
like  Barnard,  who,  while  appreciating  the  value  of  the  classical 
culture,  felt  the  need  of  a  broader  curriculum  in  order  to  keep 
pace  with  the  progress  of  science  and  the  arts  of  life.  More- 
over, just  as  the  notion  of  discipline  was  utilized  to  defend 
the  new  as  well  as  the  old  subjects,  so  it  came  to  be  utilized 
in  the  service  of  the  elective  system  as  well  as  in  that  of  pre- 
scription. The  defenders  of  the  old  required  course  urged  that 
any  deviation  from  its  standard  materials  would  leave  a  gap 
in  the  mental  training  of  the  young.  Some  powers  would  in 
that  case  not  be  properly  developed.  On  the  other  hand, 
those  who  favored,  as  does  President  Eliot,  the  scheme  of  elec- 
tion were  insistent  on  the  view  that  one  subject  will  furnish  as 
good  discipline  as  another,  provided  it  is  properly  studied. 

Thus  compelled  to  fight  on  both  sides  of  every  vital  question,   (3)  Appiica- 
the  notion  of  formal  discipline  fell  into  decline.     As  a  weapon 


with  which  to  win  a  decided  victory,  it  ceased  to  have  any  tothe. 
value,  and  it  retained  the  sole  function  of  clouding  the  atmos- 
phere, that  a  losing  side  might  escape  in  the  confusion  thus 
brought  about,  or  perhaps,  resorting  to  other  devices  than 
reason,  win  by  strategem  what  could  not  be  gained  in  open 
fight.  There  remained  for  the  psychologist  the  task  of  dis- 
lodging the  conception  from  this  doubtful  position,  and  of 
either  justifying  and  resuscitating  it,  or  of  forcing  it  into  the 
limbo  of  rejected  hypotheses.  On  this  last  stage  of  the  history 
of  the  theory  we  have  now  entered,  and,  although  most  psychol- 
ogists would  refuse  to  admit  that  the  question  is  in  any  sense 
settled,  yet  much  has  been  done  that  we  may  now  proceed 
briefly  to  review. 

To  recapitulate  :  the  desire  to  preserve  in  the  school  subjects  Summary 
the  content  of  which  is  not  closely  related  to  the  current  life, 
and  the  difficulty  of  finding  just  what  subjects  are  best  fitted 
to  prepare  for  life  in  an  individualistic  and  progressive  civili- 


294 


Principles  of  Education 


zation,  have  combined  to  cause  the  schoolmaster  to  resort  to 
the  idea  of  discipline  through  the  form  of  study.  Such  disci- 
pline is  supposed  to  arise  from  any  subject  when  it  is  well 
studied,  and  to  afford  mental  power  that  can  be  utilized  in 
any  kind  of  an  emergency.  Since  the  disciplinary  theory  is  a 
natural  outcome  of  the  faculty  theory,  the  abandonment  of 
that  view  by  Herbart  in  favor  of  his  "content"  theory  of  mind 
led  to  the  rejection  of  the  notion  of  the  discipline  of  the  faculties. 
Modern  psychology  has,  in  general,  followed  the  Herbartian 
view,  but,  nevertheless,  the  disciplinary  argument  has  been 
retained.  It  has  lost  ground,  because  it  has  been  found  to  be 
equally  useful  to  defend  any  program  of  study  where  the  mind 
is  set  to  work.  Finally,  it  has  been  attacked  by  the  experi- 
mentalists. 


SECTION  33.    Criticism  of  formal  discipline  by  recent  psychology 

The  disappearance  of  the  faculty  theory  cut  the  theoretical 
gJnerafor6  foundation  from  beneath  the  belief  in  formal  discipline.  But 
special  the  notion  was  supported  by  much  direct  evidence.  It  re- 
mained for  recent  psychology  to  call  this  evidence  in  question, 
and  to  endeavor  to  ascertain  the  exact  facts  by  careful  experi- 
mentation. We  may  first  consider  the  preliminary  phase  of  this 
discussion.  On  the  one  hand,  men  have  noticed  that  certain 
individuals  whose  powers  of  observation  were  good  in  certain 
fields  seemed  similarly  gifted  when  they  came  to  attend  to  the 
facts  in  other  fields.  The  all-round  ability  in  observation  of 
an  Aristotle  or  of  a  Darwin  is  a  characteristic  that  seemed  to 
be  repeated  on  a  lesser  scale  in  many  men  whom  we  meet. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  no  less  common  to  find  men  who  possess 
great  powers  of  observation  in  certain  fields,  and  seem  in  others 
to  be  singularly  unable  to  note  the  facts  before  them.  The 
specialist  in  botany  who  sees  plants,  but  is  oblivious  to  the 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          295 

facts  of  human  nature;  the  tailor  who  notes  the  character  of  our 
garments,  but  fails  to  see  anything  else  about  us;  the  business 
man  who  travels  abroad  and  sees  nothing  of  art  or  history  or 
quaint  custom,  but  attends  only  to  the  quality  of  the  transpor- 
tation, the  hotel  service,  or  the  business  methods,  —  all  illus- 
trate this  notorious  characteristic  of  human  nature.  So,  too, 
there  are  men  like  Macaulay  with  excellent  memories  for  all 
sorts  of  facts,  while  others  seem  to  remember  well  only  those 
in  one  or  at  most  a  few  special  fields.  I  have  in  mind  the  case 
of  a  boy  who  was  subnormal  in  power  of  retention  in  regard 
to  his  school  studies.  However,  he  had  a  very  fair,  indeed,  to 
many  observers,  apparently  a  very  good  memory  for  baseball 
records.  Even  in  reasoning,  where  one  might  expect  the  spe- 
cialization of  ability  to  be  least  in  evidence,  we  can  place  be- 
side those  Caesarian  types  whose  versatility  is  so  extraordinary 
the  inventor  who  is  fleeced  by  the  scheming  promoter,  and  the 
typical  lack  of  critical  sense  of  the  business  man  when  he  faces 
a  problem  of  pure  science.  So,  too,  in  regard  to  will,  the  fairly 
consistent  Rooseveltian  type  may  be  opposed  by  that  of  those 
men  whose  decision  and  resolution  in  some  emergencies  are 
replaced  by  vacillation  in  others.  Finally,  one  may  be  punc- 
tual at  business  and  irregular  at  meals,  conscientious  in  return- 
ing calls  and  careless  in  answering  letters,  and  so  on  indefinitely. 
Thus  it  would  seem  that  powers  of  observation,  memory, 
judgment,  and  will  may  be  either  general  or  special,  and  that 
habits  may  apply  to  many  situations  or  only  to  one. 

Such  ambiguities  leave  it  possible  to  suppose  that  native  Ordinary  ob- 
ability  may  be  general  or  special,  and  that  the  effects  of  training 
may  similarly  be  both.     Considering  all  these  facts  of  obser-      tiaiof 
vation,  together  with  that  of  the  general  intellectual  superiority      cfpiina 
of  the  educated  classes  discussed  in  the  last  section,  it  seems      effects 
that  the  hypothesis  that  native  ability  tends  to  be  general, 
while  the  effects  of  training  are  specific,  is  quite  as  plausible 


296 


Principles  of  Education 


Classes  of  ex- 
periments! 


Experiments 
of  Volk- 
mann  and 
others 


Transference 
of  practice 
effects  to 
symmetri- 
cal parts 
due  to 
identity  of 
function 
and  control 


as  any  other.  So  far  as  ordinary  uncritical  observation  is 
concerned,  therefore,  there  seems  no  clear  evidence  for  general 
disciplinary  effects.  It  remains  for  scientifically  guarded  obser- 
vation and  experiment  to  determine  for  or  against  its  existence. 

The  experimentation  on  this  matter  may  be  reviewed  under 
the  following  headings  :  (i)  the  effect  of  training  certain  mus- 
cles and  sensory  surfaces  upon  bilaterally  symmetrical  ones ; 
(2)  the  effect  of  special  training  on  the  general  accuracy  and 
rapidity  (a)  of  discriminations  or  estimates  made  by  the 
senses,  (&)  of  motor  adjustments,  or  (c)  of  memorizing  ;  (3)  the 
effect  of  special  habits  on  general  behavior. 

(i)  Effect  of  training  certain  muscles  and  sensory  surfaces 
upon  bilaterally  symmetrical  ones.  Experiments  by  Volkmann J 
show  that  when  skin  of  the  left  arm  is  trained  to  discriminate 
touches  that  are  so  near  that  they  were  at  first  confused,  the 
skin  of  neighboring  areas  and  also  of  the  right  arm  makes 
similar,  although  not  proportionate,  gain.  Other  experimenters 
discovered  that  as  training  of  one  arm  improved  its  grip,  the 
grip  of  the  other  became  stronger  ; 2  as  the  right  toe  was  trained 
to  tap  more  quickly,  the  left  toe  and  both  the  hands  showed 
some  quickening  in  speed  in  this  exercise  ;  as  the  right  arm 
gained  through  practice  the  power  to  lift  a  certain  weight  more 
times  or  to  strike  a  target  more  accurately  with  a  foil 3  or  to 
hit  a  dot,4  the  left  showed  considerable  if  not  equal  improve- 
ment. 

Professor  Thorndike  5  regards  these  cases  as  not  properly 
instances  of  the  spread  of  special  training,  because  the  influ- 
ence of  bilaterally  symmetrical  halves  of  the  body  upon  each 
other  constitutes  a  "very  peculiar  case."  It  is  to  be  noted 

1  BericU  der  Kgl.  Sack.  Ges.  d.  Wiss.,  Math.-phys.  Cl.,  1858,  X,  38. 

2  Yale  Studies,  Vol.  II. 

3  Ibid.,  Vols.  VI  and  VIII. 

4  Psych.  Rev.,  Mon.  Supplement,  No.  13,  p.  105. 

5  Educational  Psychology,  pp.  87-88. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          297 

that  we  do  not  have  different  things  done  by  different  organs, 
or  even  by  the  same  organ,  but  rather  practically  the  same 
thing  done  by  organs  which,  because  they  are  symmetrical, 
are  practically  identical  in  function  and  control.  Hence,  we 
can  scarcely  speak  of  the  development  of  any  general  power. 
However,  in  so  far  as  there  is  any  evidence  of  generalization, 
it  is  plain  that  it  depends  upon  the  presence  of  "identical  ele- 
ments" to  be  discriminated  by  different  parts  of  the  same  sense 
organ,  or  of  identical  methods  of  control  over  different  but 
very  similar  associated  muscles. 

(2-0)  Effect  of  special  training  on  the  general  rapidity  and 
accuracy  of  discriminations  and  estimates  made  by  the  senses. 
Thorndike  and  Woodworth  :  found  that  improvement  in  dis-  Experiments 
criminating  words  containing  the  letters  e  and  5  brought  with  dike  and 
it  improvement  of  39  per  cent  as  much  in  the  speed  of  discrim- 
inating words  containing  i  and  t  or  s  and  p,  etc.,  or  misspelled 
words,  or  the  letter  A  in  a  list  of  letters.  There  was  also  a  gain 
in  accuracy,  but  only  25  per  cent  of  that  in  the  practice  work. 
Training  in  perceiving  English  verbs,  which  reduced  the  time 
of  discrimination  and  the  number  of  omissions,  made  it  pos- 
sible to  discriminate  other  parts  of  speech  3  per  cent  more 
quickly  than  before,  but  there  was  a  large  increase  in  the 
number  omitted,  showing  positive  interference.  Forty-four 
per  cent  of  the  improvement  resulting  from  practice  in  esti- 
mating the  areas  of  rectangles  was  shown  in  the  power  to  esti- 
mate the  areas  of  rectangles  of  the  same  general  size,  but  of  a 
different  shape,  and  30  per  cent  of  this  original  practice  effect 
remained  when  the  size  was  increased  but  the  shape  retained. 
Curiously  enough,  when  there  was  both  increase  in  size  and 
change  in  shape,  the  transfer  of  improvement  was  most  marked, 
being  52  per  cent  of  the  original  gain.  Improvement  in  the 
power  to  estimate  weights  resulted  in  39  per  cent  as  much 
1  Psych.  Rev.,  Vol.  VIII.. 


298  Principles  of  Education 

gain  in  power  to  estimate  heavier  ones,  while  practice  in  esti- 
mating the  lengths  of  lines  failed  to  produce  an  invariable 
gain  in  the  ability  to  estimate  longer  and  shorter  ones. 
Transference        Professor  Thorndikc  ascribes  the  transfer  of  practice  effects 
*n  tnese  experiments  to  "(i)    the  acquisition  during  special 


tion  de-       training  of  ideas  of  method  and  of  general  utility,  and  also  (2) 

"identical"   of  facility  with  certain  elements  that  appeared  in  many  other 

elements      complexes."     An  "instance  of  (i)  is  learning  .  .  .  that  one 

has  a  tendency  to   overestimate  all  areas,  and  consciously 

making  a  discount  for  this  tendency,  ...  of  (2)  is  the  uni- 

form increase  in  speed  of  eye  movements  in  all  the  tests 

through  training  in  one,  an  increase  of  speed  often  gained  at 

the  expense  of  accuracy." 

Experiments        Coover  and  Angell  *  discovered  that  training  in  tone  dis- 

of  Coover          ...  ,,  „  ,,... 

and  Angell.   crimination  produced  a  beneficial  effect  upon  the  discrimma- 
Simiiar        ^on  of  sna(jes  of  color.     The  causes  of  this  transference  they 

results  ' 

sum  up  as,  (a)  "The  formation  of  a  habit  of  reacting  directly 
to  a  stimulus  without  useless  kinassthetic  acoustic  and  motor 
accompaniments  of  recognition,  which  results  in  (b)  an  equitable 
distribution  of  attention  to  the  various  possible  reactions 
so  as  to  be  about  equally  prepared  for  all  ;  and  (c)  the  conse- 
quent power  of  concentrating  the  attention  throughout  the 
whole  series  without  distraction." 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  general  improvement  here  lies  in  a 
strengthening  of  the  ability  to  attend.  Professor  Angell, 
commenting  again  2  on  these  experiments  and  their  signifi- 
cance, seems  to  regard  this  improvement  as  largely  to  be  ex- 
plained by  "the  habituation  which  is  afforded  in  neglecting 
or  otherwise  suppressing  unpleasant  or  distracting  sensations. 
We  learn  to  'stand  it'  in  short."  This  power,  he  thinks,  may 
be  derived  from  attention  to  the  classics  and  be  transferred 
to  other  difficult  tasks  in  life. 

1  Amer.  Journal  of  Psych.,  1907,  p.  328.  2  Ed.  Rev.,  June,  1908. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          299 

(2-6)  The  effect  of  special  training  on  the  general  rapidity  Motor  ad- 
and  accuracy  of  motor  adjustments.  It  will  be  observed  that  in  ^Tnot 
the  experiments  of  Thorndike  and  Woodworth,  and  of  Angell  involved 
and  Coover  the  motor  reactions,  except  as  they  contribute  to 
more  accurate  discrimination,  are  comparatively  unimportant. 
It  is  true  that,  where  rapidity  of  discrimination  as  well  as 
accuracy  are  in  question,  the  attempt  to  discriminate  quickly 
might  tangle  up  the  motor  machinery  involved  in  the  responses, 
and  errors  due  to  this  confusion  might  be  ascribed  to  false 
perception.  However,  since  there  is  only  one  response  to  each 
element  discriminated,  unless  this  is  a  new  and  as  yet  not 
thoroughly  learned  reaction  it  will  probably  follow  a  sufficiently 
clear  perception  without  difficulty.  But  these  reactions  consist 
merely  in  crossing  out  words  or  in  naming  or  estimating  by  well- 
known  words.  Therefore,  the  experiments  test  discrimination 
rather  than  motor  adjustment. 

Professor  Judd  gives  an  experiment1  in  which   the  latter  Judd's  ex- 
factor  is  concerned.     The  person  tested  was  required  to  place      ^"placing 
a  pencil  which  he  held  in  his  hand  in  the  same  direction  as  lines      a  pencil, 
which  were  exposed  momentarily  to  his  vision.     The  hand  and      ence 
the  arm  were  concealed  from  his  view,  so  that  the  eyes  were 
unable  to  observe  directly  errors  in  placing  the  pencil.     It 
was  found  that  fuller  visual  experience  with  one  of  the  lines  led 
to  a  more  accurate  placing  of  the  pencil  in  its  direction.    When, 
after  this  practice,  the  other  lines  were  shown  as  at  first,  it 
was  found  that  there  was  improvement  in  the  representation 
where  the  original  error  had  been  in  the  same  direction  as  that 
of  the  practice  line,  but  the  representations  of  other  lines  grew 
worse.    Thus  Professor  Judd  concludes  that  the  results  of 
practice  can  be  transferred,  and  that  the  effect  may  be  improve- 
ment or  interference.     Moreover,  since  subsequent  practice 
by  the  fuller  exposure  of  one  of  the  misrepresented  lines  failed 

1  Ed.  Rev.,  June,  1908. 


300  Principles  of  Education 

to  produce  improvement,  the  experimenter  thinks  that  a  habit 
had  been  formed  that  resisted  the  effects  of  further  practice. 
Experiments  on  geometrical  illusions  showed  that  when  the 
subject  was  aware  of  improvement  in  correcting  the  illusion 
and  of  its  reasons,  he  found  it  possible  to  overcome  this  inter- 
ference when  an  illusion  of  an  opposite  character  was  set  before 
him.     When,  however,  such  knowledge  was  absent,  the  ten- 
dency toward  interference  remained  as  a  fixed  habit, 
interference        In  Judd's  first  experiment  the  sensory  factors  and  their 
f  If  rt0  /^  meanmS  m  terms  of  the  reaction  are  not  clearly  apprehended 
discrimi-      by  the  subject.     He  gets  a  better  view  of  the  practice  line, 
proper  sen-  an(^  tm's  nelps  him  in  a  vague  way  to  place  the  pencil  better. 
sory  cue  to  The  reason  for  interference  lies  in  the  fact  that,  so  far  as  the 
or  '  subject  perceives  or  feels,  all  the  representations  should  be 

corrected  in  the  same  way.     Interference  plainly  arises  where 
in  new  situations  the  sensory  cue  that  should  lead  to  a  different 
reaction  is  not  apprehended.     It  may  also  appear  where  the 
same  sensory  suggestion  is  now  to  be  responded  to  by  a  dif- 
ferent reaction.     As  the  former  case  is  illustrated  in  the  experi- 
ments of  Judd,  so  the  latter  appears  in  those  of  Bergstrom.1 
(2)  change  in       Bergstrom*  studied  the  interference  of  certain  habits  with 
this  sen-     fae  ability  to  perform  opposed  acts.     He  used  a  pack  of  eighty 
as  seen  in  cards,  each  having  a  picture  on  its  face.     Each  picture  appeared 
stromVex-  on  eignt  °f  tne  cards.     The  experiment  consisted  in  sorting  the 
periments,    cards  according  to  the  pictures,  and  then  in  re-sorting  them, 
placing  each  pile  in  a  different  position  from  the  one  it  occupied 
at  first.     In  the  beginning,  the  re-sorting  took  more  time  than 
the  original  act.     This  interference  tends  to  decrease  with  the 
more  extended  practice  in  sorting  the  piles  in  the  various  posi- 
tions. 
Munsterberg2  experimented  on  the  effect  of  changing  his 

1  Amer.  Journal  of  Psych.,  VI,  p.  433. 

2  Gedachlnisstudien,  Teil  I,  Heft  4,  1892. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          301 

watch  from  one  pocket  to  the  other.  Whenever  such  a  change  (V)  Mun- 
was  made,  there  followed  a  period  during  which  the  hand  would 
unconsciously  fumble  in  the  wrong  pocket  in  the  endeavor 
to  take  out  the  watch.  With  practice  in  the  interchange, 
however,  the  rapidity  of  readjustment  to  a  different  position 
of  the  watch  was  greatly  increased.  Similar  results  were 
obtained  from  the  interchange  of  two  inkwells,  one  full,  the 
other  empty,  which  were  placed  on  the  table  where  he  was 
writing;  also  by  locking  now  one,  now  another  of  the  two  doors 
by  which  he  could  enter  his  office.  Thus,  he  concludes,  the 
power  to  substitute  for  one  habit  an  opposed  one  can  be  im- 
proved by  practice. 

In  so  far  as  new  reactions  contain  elements  identical  with  Transference 
some  appearing  in  old  ones,  they  may  be  facilitated  by  the      whf 
power  previously   acquired.     Bair 1   found   that   practice    in      have  com- 
copying  on  a  typewriter  a  series  of  letters  in  which  only  six     ments66 
distinct   letters   were   used   improved   one's  power   to   copy      Ba'r's  «- 
another  series  of  equal  length  made  up  of  a  different  set  of 
letters  or  figures.     The  keys  of  the  typewriter  were  capped  so 
as  to  place  any  symbol  on  any  key,  and  thus  the  effect  of  pre- 
vious familiarity  with  the  machine  was  eliminated  from  the 
experiment.     He  also  found  that  practice  in  repeating  the 
alphabet  with  the  letter  n  spoken  after  each  letter  increased  the 
power  to  repeat  it  with  the  letter  x  or  the  letter  r  thus  intro- 
duced. 

(2-c)  The  effect  of  special  training  on  the  general  rapidity  and  James's  ex- 
accuracy  of  memorizing.     We  notice  here  first  the  observations     ^"practice 
of  Professor  James,2  —  a    contribution   that  may  be  said  to      jn.  memor- 
have  initiated  the  experimental  phase  of  the  discussion  of  formal     improve- 
discipline.     He  found  that,  after  practice  in  committing  to      I116"1 

in  memory 

memory  parts  of  Book  I  of  Paradise  Lost,  his  power  to  memo-      due  to 

better 

1  Psych.  Rev.,  Mon.  Supplement,  No.  19.  methods 

*  Principles  of  Psych.,  Vol.  I,  p.  667. 


302 


Principles  of  Education 


Confirmation 
of  this  view 
in   (i)   ex- 
periments 
of  Ebert 
and  Meu- 
mann : 


(2)  experi- 
ments of 
Fracker  ; 


rize  other  verses  seemed  to  have  decreased.  Three  other 
subjects  noted  an  insignificant  gain  as  a  result  of  practice, 
while  a  fourth  suffered  a  similar  loss.  He  concludes,  "All 
improvement  of  memory  consists  in  the  improvement  of  one's 
habitual  method  of  recording  the  facts." 

Ebert  and  Meumann  1  found  that  practice  in  committing 
to  memory  nonsense  syllables,  in  the  course  of  which  an  en- 
deavor was  made  to  discover  which  methods  of  learning  were 
most  economical,  effected  constant  improvement  in  the  power 
to  learn  and  to  retain  series  of  nonsense  syllables,  letters,  words, 
and  lines  of  poetry  or  of  prose.  The  amount  of  improvement 
was  in  a  general  way  proportional  to  the  similarity  between  the 
test  material  and  the  practice  material.  The  observations  of 
the  subjects  of  the  experiments  seemed  to  indicate  that  they 
would  explain  the  increase  in  power  to  the  discovery  of  what 
to  each  was  his  most  efficient  method  of  memorizing,  and  the 
gradual  elimination  of  the  other  devices.  Thus  the  theoretical 
view  of  James  would  be  confirmed,  although  Ebert  and  Meu- 
mann were  inclined  to  credit  the  existence  of  something  that 
might  be  called  general  improvement  of  the  memory. 

Another  very  careful,  prolonged,  and  somewhat  complicated 
research  "On  the  Transference  of  Training  in  Memory"  is 
that  of  Dr.  Fracker.2  He  found  that  practice  in  committing 
to  memory  the  order  of  four  tones  gradually  led  to  an  improve- 
ment in  the  power  to  remember  poetry,  the  order  of  presenta- 
tion of  four  shades  of  gray,  of  nine  tones,  of  nine  shades  of  gray, 
of  nine  geometrical  figures,  of  nine  numbers,  and  of  the  extent 
of  arm  movements.  The  improvement  was  neither  uniform 
nor  invariable.  He  concludes  that  his  results  are  in  accord 
with  those  of  James,  "inasmuch  as  all  the  factors  we  have 
discovered  have  to  do  with  methods."  He  considers  improve- 


1  Arch.f.  d.  gesam.  Psych.,  Vol.  IV,  p.  i. 

2  Psych.  Rev.,  Mon.  Supplement,  Vol.  IX,  No.  2. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          303 


ment  "to  depend  upon  the  consistent  use  of  some  form  of 
imagery,  whether  it  is  the  most  advantageous  or  not."  In 
further  summary  he  says  :  — 

"Imagery  may  be  subconsciously  developed,  but  if  it  comes 
to  be  consciously  recognized,  the  improvement  is  more  rapid. 
The  rate  of  improvement  seems  to  depend  directly  upon  the 
conscious  recognition  of  imagery  and  upon  attention  to  its 
use." 

"A  change  in  imagery  during  practice  increases  the  rapidity 
of  the  improvement,  if  a  better  form  is  adopted  and  adhered  to. 
It  may  prevent  improvement  if  a  change  of  imagery  is  frequent, 
or  if  a  less  adequate  form  is  adopted." 

In  concluding  this  sketch  of  experiments  on  memory,  we 
might  note  the  results  of  Winch *  with  British  school  children. 
After  testing  three  classes  of  children  of  different  social  standing 
in  power  to  commit  to  memory  poetry,  he  divided  each  into 
two  groups  of  equal  ability.  One  division  was  trained  by 
being  required  to  commit  to  memory  one  hundred  words  of 
poetry.  A  second  test  showed  10  per  cent  more  improvement 
on  the  part  of  this  group  than  on  that  of  the  untrained  one. 
This  large  gain  from  a  small  amount  of  practice  is,  doubtless, 
the  sudden  accession  of  power  that  comes  from  a  few  funda- 
mental advances  in  method.  It  may  be  profitably  contrasted 
with  the  results  of  the  experiments  of  James,  with  whose  sub- 
jects, doubtless,  the  methods  of  memorizing  had  been  fairly  well 
exploited  before  the  experimentation  began.  Thus  in  training 
the  memory,  as  in  training  the  senses  or  the  motor  powers, 
the  general  improvement  rests  back  upon  identical  elements 
in  the  practice  and  the  test  material.  Whenever  similar  situ- 
ations recur,  a  recognition  of  their  similarity  leads  to  a  utili- 
zation in  the  new  cases  of  the  reactions  found  advantageous 
in  the  older  ones.  A  specific  task  of  memorizing,  such  as  is 

1  British  Journal  of  Psych.,  Vol.  II,  p.  284. 


(3)   experi- 
ments of 
Winch. 
Greater 
chance  for 
improve- 
ment in 
children 
than  in 
older  per- 
sons 


304 


Principles  of  Education 


Bagley's 
experi- 
ment 


Identical  ele- 
ments as 
involving 
both  the 
content 
and  the 
form  of 
situations 


involved  in  each  of  these  experiments,  is  a  case  where  the  simi- 
larity is,  as  it  were,  forced  upon  the  attention.  Hence  all  the 
devices  that  can  be  transferred  are  in  each  test  definitely 
summoned  forth,  and  improvement  is,  to  say  the  least,  likely, 
unless  at  the  initiation  of  the  experiments  the  subject  was 
already  a  master  of  methods  of  memorizing.  And  even 
masters  can  learn! 

(3)  The  effect  of  special  habits  on  general  behavior.  Under 
this  very  large  heading  I  will  recount  only  one  simple  experi- 
ment reported  by  Professor  Bagley.1  School  children  were 
trained  to  be  neat  in  arithmetic  papers.  They  showed  no 
tendency  to  improve  the  neatness  of  papers  written  in  con- 
nection with  other  subjects. 

When  we  compare  the  conclusions  of  these  experimenters, 
we  find  a  substantial  unanimity  of  opinion.  It  is  agreed  that 
wherever  practice  in  one  exercise  leads  to  improvement  in  an- 
other certain  specific  elements  in  both  are  identical,  and  call 
forth  identical  responses  which  promote  success  in  both  exer- 
cises. The  identical  elements  that  are  thus  distinguished 
may  be  divided  into  two  groups,  those  of  content  and  those 
of  form.  As  examples  of  content  elements  we  may  mention 
sounds,  colors,  letters,  nonsense  syllables,  words,  objects, 
kinds  of  geometrical  figures,  standards  of  measurements, 
ideas,  etc.  As  one  grows  familiar  with  such  elements,  the 
power  to  remember  them,  and  to  attend  to  them  when  they 
appear  in  new  situations,  and  to  do  what  they  suggest  increases. 
The  elements  of  form  may  be  said  to  consist  of  the  character- 
istics that  various  situations  present  as  problems  for  the 
attacking  mind.  Thus  we  recognize  one  situation  as  a  problem 
of  memorizing  where  from  the  nature  of  the  material  a  par- 
ticular method  of  committing  to  memory  may  be  especially 
useful.  Again,  we  recognize  the  need  of  particular  adjust- 

1  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  XIII. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          305 


ments  of  perception,  such  as  eye  movements  which  we  have 
already  practiced.  All  situations  demand  adjustments  of 
attention,  some  of  which  may  invariably  be  necessary,  while 
others  may  suit  especially  specific  kinds  of  material. 

We  observe  that  elements  of  form  and  elements  of  content 
are  equally  specific,  equally  capable  of  definition.  Moreover, 
both  are  capable  of  generalization;  that  is,  both  are  capable 
of  appearing  in  a  variety  of  settings.  The  problem  of  general 
training  is,  then,  quite  as  much  one  of  discipline  in  content 
as  it  is  of  discipline  in  form.  A  better  division  of  mental  dis^ 
cipline  for  our  purposes  would  be  into  two  phases,  which  we 
may  denominate  specific  discipline  and  general  discipline. 
Specific  discipline  consists  in  the  analysis  of  the  specific  ele- 
ments which  are  found  to  be  critical  in  determining  certain 
reactions,  and  in  the  practice  by  which  the  appropriate  reac- 
tion is  made  the  habitual  response  to  each  element  thus  dis- 
criminated. General  discipline  consists  of  training  in  the 
recognition  of  these  critical  elements  in  a  variety  of  situations. 

The  successful  transference  of  any  result  of  practice  or 
experience  depends  upon  both  these  phases  of  discipline. 
The  failure  to  transfer  neatness  from  arithmetic  papers  to 
others  in  the  experiment  by  Bagley  is,  doubtless,  due  to  some 
lack  of  efficiency  in  both  respects.  The  specific  discipline 
failed  in  attaching  the  reactions  connected  with  neatness  with 
elements  which  in  any  situation  were  expected  to  call  forth 
these  responses.  The  suggestion  which  in  the  practice  was 
associated  with  neatness  was  not  the  thought  of  any  exercise 
to  be  presented  to  the  inspection  of  a  teacher,  but  rather  that 
of  an  arithmetic  paper  to  be  presented  to  a  teacher  who  insists 
on  neatness.  Very  naturally,  when  any  of  these  factors  was 
absent,  the  children  failed  to  make  the  response  which  was 
associated  with  the  entire  group.  Or,  if,  as  is  likely,  we  may 
call  the  command  of  the  teacher  in  question  the  critical  sug- 


Discipline  as 
specific 
and 
general 


Bagley's  ex- 
periment 
illustrative 
of  the  lack 
of  each  sort 
of  disci- 
pline 


306  Principles  of  Education 

gesting  stimulus  to  put  forth  the  effort  desired,  then  the  reason 
for  the  lack  of  transference  was  that  the  identical  element  that 
prompted  the  desired  reactions  was  absent  from  all  the  test 
material.  No  child  would  be  neat  unless  there  were  some  rea- 
son for  it,  and  the  only  reason  that  had  so  far  appealed  to  the 
children  was  the  desirability  of  conforming  to  the  requirement 
of  the  teacher. 

In  the  second  place,  the  experiment  illustrates  the  lack  of 
any  attempt  to  secure  general  discipline.  If  the  children  had 
been  trained  to  be  neat  not  only  in  arithmetic  papers,  but  also 
in  many  others,  and  if  many  teachers  had  conspired  to  enforce 
this  demand,  it  would  have  been  much  more  likely  that  the 
children  would  have  recognized  in  some  new  paper  that  they 
were  required  to  present  an  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  the 
virtue  in  question  than  they  would  after  any  amount  of  specific 
drill  in  neatness  in  any  one  connection.1 

interference  We  have  noted  two  conditions  that  give  rise  to  interference. 
the  ladT  ^  ^ne  ^rs^  case  a  given  reaction  is  attached  to  a  vague  un- 
of  specific  analyzed  situation  rather  than  to  the  specific  element  in  that 

discipline,  ,  .   .  ,  T 

(2)  from      emergency  to  which  it  constitutes  the  proper  response.     In 
the  lack       consequence,  other  situations  superficially  resembling  the  first 
application  call  forth  the  reaction,  even  though  the  real  reason  for  this 
habit6         reaction  is  wanting.     Thus  all  diseases  are  treated  by  the 
savage  medicine  man  or  the  Christian  Scientist  alike.     The 
faith  that  cures  is  not  properly  fitted  to  the  specific  condition 
for  which  it  has  real  therapeutic  value.    The  fault  here  lies 
plainly  in  inadequate  specific  discipline.    The  second  case  of 
interference  appears  where  in  a  new  situation  a  different  reac- 
tion should  be  made  to  a  stimulus  than  the  one  originally 
learned.    This  is  illustrated  in  the  experiments  of  Bergstrom 

1  Ruediger,  Principles  of  Education,  108-110,  gives  an  account  of  supple- 
mentary experiments  on  neatness,  in  which  the  limitations  of  Bagley's  experi- 
ment are  in  a  measure  removed,  with  great  consquent  gain  in  transference. 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          307 

and  Miinsterberg.  Here  the  reaction  to  a  given  stimulus  was 
arbitrarily  made  different.  In  the  practical  emergencies  of 
life  this  form  of  interference  arises  because  in  different  circum- 
stances the  same  stimulus  should  be  responded  to  differently. 
The  personal  influence  by  which  one  has  never  yet  failed  to  win 
a  child  to  proper  conduct  may  fail  because  other  influences 
are  leading  the  child  to  react  differently  to  the  counsels  of  his 
mentor.  In  such  cases  successful  transference  depends  upon 
the  accurate  discrimination  of  each  element  in  the  situation 
that  is  critical  in  determining  its  treatment,  and  either  the 
habit  or  the  mental  grasp  and  judgment  that  correlates  these, 
and  from  this  complex  suggestion  initiates  the  proper  response. 
Again,  we  may  say  the  fault  lies  in  specific  discipline. 

In  general,  we  may  then  say  that  interference  always  arises 
from  a  lack  of  critical  care,  either  in  forming  the  habit  or  in 
utilizing  it.  The  critical  forming  of  the  habit  is  the  task  of 
specific  discipline.  The  critical  use  of  the  habit  depends  to  a 
considerable  extent  upon  such  familiarity  with  a  variety  of 
cases  where  the  habit  might  be  resorted  to  as  insures  caution  in 
its  application.  Thus  it  is  very  largely  a  matter  of  general 
discipline.  However,  the  main  problem  of  general  discipline 
is,  not  to  prevent  interference  from  the  transfer  of  wrong  reac- 
tions, but  rather  to  insure  the  transference  of  the  right  ones. 
This  it  does  by  making  us  alert  to  the  critical  suggestions  wher- 
ever they  may  appear. 

We  may  conclude,  then,  that  there  is  something  which  may  conclusions 
appropriately  be  called  formal  discipline,  and  that  it  may  be      in  rcgar<| 
more  or  less  general  in  character.     It  consists  in  the  establish-      discipline 
ment  of  habitual  reactions  that  correspond  to  the  form  of  sit- 
uations.    These  reactions  foster  adjustments,  attitudes,  and 
ideas  that  favor  the  successful  dealing  with  the  emergencies 
that  rouse  them.     On  the  other  hand,  both  the  form  that  we 
can  learn  to  deal  with  more  effectively,  and  the  reactions  that 


Principles  of  Education 


Transference 
and  the 
education 
of  the 
reason 


we  associate  with  it,  are  definite.  There  is  no  general  training 
of  the  powers  or  faculties,  so  far  as  we  can  determine.  Formal 
discipline  improves  mental  efficiency  wherever  new  situations 
correspond  in  form  to  ones  the  treatment  of  which  has  been 
mastered,  provided  one  recognizes  or  feels  this  similarity. 
Such  training,  like  any  other  culture,  consists  in  the  establish- 
ment of  habits  of  thought  and  action  that  will  prove  useful 
along  dependent  lines  of  development. 

These  habits,  once  established,  govern  our  future  activities. 
Thus  it  may  be  said  that  the  transference  of  training,  instead 
of  being  an  exceptional  affair,  is  the  rule.  The  novelty  of  a 
new  situation  may  or  may  not  be  felt  or  apprehended.  In  the 
latter  case  it  will  be  treated  as  an  old  one  would  be,  and  the  cor- 
responding habits  will  be  transferred  uncritically.  If  the  new- 
ness is  noticed,  reaction  will  be  slower,  but  whenever  it  comes, 
it  will  inevitably  consist  of  the  responses  that  are  associated 
with  whatever  is  felt  or  seen  to  be  familiar  in  the  emergency. 
Thus  the  inherent  need  of  action  forces  transference,  general- 
ization ;  and  the  inherent  need  of  success  compels  us  to  correct 
such  transference  as,  in  the  phraseology  of  our  experiments, 
has  resulted  in  interference. 

At  bottom  successful  transference  to  situations  that  are 
more  or  less  new  is  a  matter  of  intelligence.  Of  course,  one 
can  learn  by  trial  and  error  methods,  and  in  that  event  it  is 
well  to  have  in  one's  equipment  of  resources  a  habit  or  group 
of  habits  that  will  apply,  if  only  we  can  pick  out  what  we 
want.  However,  ideational  processes  greatly  enhance  the  likeli- 
hood of  immediately  successful  transference.  The  problem  of 
whether  we  can  train  these  was  discussed  in  the  last  chapter. 
It  will  be  noted  that  what  has  just  been  called  specific  discipline, 
or  the  formation  of  an  association  between  a  reaction  and  its 
universal  stimulus,  corresponds  to  the  formation  of  concepts. 
On  the  other  hand,  general  discipline,  or  training  to  recognize 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          309 

these  critical  stimuli  in  new  surroundings,  corresponds  to  that 
inductive  method  by  which  concepts  are  so  widely  associated 
with  concrete  situations  that  they  are  apt  to  be  recalled  when 
they  are  needed.  It  is  evident  also  that  successful  transference 
is  fostered  not  only  by  such  forms  of  discipline,  but  also  by  the 
power  to  take  the  attitudes  of  originality  and  of  criticism. 

SECTION  34.     The  theory  of  formal  discipline  as  an  educational 

principle 

If  we  were  to  sum  up  the  general  principles  of  educational  Educational 
practice  that  can  be  deduced  from  the  preceding  discussion  of  rJhtTng'to 
the  theory  of  formal  discipline,  they  could  be  stated  about  as  formal 
follows  :  (i)  There  is  no  general  training  of  mental  power  en- 
tirely apart  from  the  establishment  of  definite  associations. 
(2)  The  associations  established  by  discipline  may  involve 
responses  to  the  form  of  a  situation,  or  that  about  it  which  sug- 
gests to  the  mind  a  general  mode  of  treatment.  Training  of  this 
sort  maybe  called  formal  discipline,  but  it  is  no  less  definite  than 
instruction  in  content.  (3)  Reactions  of  method,  such  as 
result  from  formal  discipline,  probably  are,  on  the  whole, 
more  widely  useful  than  are  definite  pieces  of  information. 
There  are  fewer  associations  to  be  established  by  formal  dis- 
cipline, but  these  can  be  utilized  in  a  wider  field  of  service. 
(4)  To  secure  this  wider  service,  or  to  bring  about  successful 
transference,  requires  a  special  sort  of  training,  entirely  apart 
from  the  mere  establishments  of  the  specific  associations 
involved.  The  school  does  not  get  general  power  unless  it 
works  for  this.  (5)  Subjects  should  not  be  chosen  for  their 
formal  discipline  alone.  Training  in  method  is  most  eco- 
nomical and  most  effective  when  it  is  given  in  connection  with 
content  the  mastery  of  which  is  in  itself  valuable.  Some  of 
these  points  require  a  little  more  extended  discussion. 


310  Principles  of  Education 

(1)  Abandon-       (i)  The  disappearance  of  the  view  that  there  is  a  vague 
culture^f16  Seneral  culture  of  the  faculties  through  use  is  doubtless  a  dis- 
the  facul-     tinct  step  ahead  in  education.     It  does  away  with  a  comfort- 
able acquiescence  in  the  existing  state  of  affairs,  and  opens 
the  way  for  criticism  and  progress  and  definite  choice  as  to  the 

Resulting  subject  matter  of  the  curriculum.  Moreover,  it  offers  to  school 
atages  metno(j  a  problem  which  hitherto  has  been  inadequately  real- 
ized ;  namely,  the  problem  of  bringing  about  really  general 
effects.  Since  their  attainment  cannot  be  taken  for  granted, 
the  school  must  find  out  how  this  can  be  brought  about,  or 
give  up  this  important  phase  in  its  work,  and  content  itself  in 
training  for  certain  special  situations,  which  can  be  quite 
definitely  foreseen. 

(2)  Formal         (2)  If  the  phrase  "  formal  discipline  "  is  defined  in  such  a  way 
as^rainTng  as  to  mean  training  in  those  methods  of  treatment  that  are 
in  reactions  adapted  to  what  might  be  called  the  form  of  a  situation,  it  is 

important  to  note  that  these  adjustments  are  quite  definite 
in  character.  In  criticising  the  disciplinary  training  given  in 
the  experiments  reported  by  Professor  Bagley,  it  was  noted 
that  there  was  an  absence  of  both  specific  and  of  general  dis- 
cipline. On  the  one  hand,  the  children  were  not  trained  to 
recognize  that  general  characteristic  of  various  situations 
which  constitutes  them  occasions  for  the  display  of  neatness, 
and,  on  the  other,  there  was  no  attempt  to  teach  the  classes 

Definiteness  to  recognize  this  critical  characteristic  in  various  surroundings. 
Formal  discipline  is  specific;  that  is,  definite.  It  involves 
definite  stimuli  and  definite  responses. 

Difficulty  in  If  we  try  to  realize  what  these  definite  factors  are,  we  find 
neatness  that  their  analysis  is  not  altogether  a  simple  affair.  To  con- 
tinue with  the  illustration  used  above,  it  is  evident  that  there 
are  many  kinds  of  neatness,  that  they  differ  as  to  the  character 
of  the  situations  that  require  them,  and  also  as  to  the  reactions 
that  they  involve.  There  is  neatness  in  written  work  in  the 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          3 1 1 


school,  neatness  in  dress,  neatness  in  arranging  one's  posses- 
sions, etc.  However,  there  must  be  something  in  common, 
both  in  respect  to  the  occasions  for  neatness  and  the  methods 
of  attaining  it ;  otherwise  they  could  scarcely  be  covered  by  a 
single  word.  Professor  Bagley  declares  that  the  general  ele- 
ment is  the  "ideal"  of  neatness,  which  involves  a  new  set  of 
habits  for  each  situation.  This  ideal,  he  believes,  can  be 
implanted  by  instruction  in  the  mind,  and  its  existence  facili- 
tates, in  his  judgment,  the  formation  of  a  special  set  of  adjust- 
ments by  which  one  may  conform  to  its  requirements  in  a  spe- 
cial case.  If  we  have  the  general  ideal  of  neatness,  we  will  be 
apt  to  think  of  it  when  we  dispose  the  materials  on  our  study 
tables,  and  find  out  by  experiment  what  sort  of  arrangement 
yields  the  desired  result. 

What  is  this  ideal  of  neatness  ?  If  it  be  not  definite  in  regard  Neatness  a 
to  the  occasions  that  suggest  it,  and  the  activities  and  results 
that  satisfy  it,  one  can  scarcely  see  how  it  can  form  a  stimulus 
to  readjustment.  Analysis  would  seem  to  reveal  these  specific 
factors.  In  general,  the  need  for  neatness  arises  wherever 
one  is  arranging  material  to  be  submitted  later  to  the  inspec- 
tion or  use  either  of  himself  or  of  some  one  else.  Neatness 
means  such  a  disposition  of  that  material  as  insures  a  pleasing, 
and  in  so  far  an  aesthetic,  effect  on  the  eye,  a  ready  inspection 
of  the  items  arranged,  or  a  convenient  utilization  of  them,  when 
they  are  needed.  In  short,  neatness  is  that  orderly  arrange- 
ment that  makes  for  efficiency,  and  contributes,  doubtless 
partly  because  of  this  quality,  to  aesthetic  satisfaction.  The 
various  factors  that  make  up  neatness  differ  widely  with  the 
material  involved.  Usually  they  include  cleanness,  —  al- 
though to  some  this  conception  may  be  distinct.  Dirt,  which 
has  been  defined  as  matter  out  of  place,  must  be  absent.  This 
includes  blots  on  paper,  spots  on  clothing,  and  dust  or  refuse 
papers  on  a  study  table.  In  general,  however,  dirt  can  be 


definite 
quality  in 
respect  to 
its  occasion, 
its  crite- 
rion, and  its 
reactions 


312  Principles  of  Education 

recognized  by  the  definite  criterion  just  suggested.  Orderly 
arrangement  again  varies  with  circumstances.  So  far  as 
written  school  work  is  concerned,  it  means  legibility,  and  such 
an  arrangement  of  material  as  favors  easy  inspection.  The 
arrangement  desirable  in  arithmetic  would,  of  course,  differ 
from  that  required  in  English.  Nevertheless,  there  is  a  per- 
fectly definite,  yet  perfectly  general  criterion,  which  we  apply 
to  test  whether  we  have  succeeded  in  getting  neat  effects. 
We  simply  inspect,  and  judge  from  the  sense  of  satisfaction, 
and  the  ease  we  feel  or  think  others  will  feel  in  scanning  the 
material  under  criticism  whether  it  can  be  justly  regarded  as 
neat. 

Variation  Thus  neatness  is  a  definite  quality,   tested  by  a  definite 

and  read-     criterion,  and  demanded  by  a  definite  type  of  situation.     The 

justment 

in  details  of  detailed  factors  of  the  quality  vary  from  case  to  case,  but  there 
is  always  sameness  in  the  fundamental  factors.  The  task  of 
specific  discipline  is  to  effect  the  association  between  the  com- 
mon characteristics  of  situations  requiring  neatness  and  the 
criterion  by  which  its  presence  may  be  tested.  In  addition, 
many  definite  ways  of  securing  neatness,  some  more,  some  less 
general,  may  be  learned  or  associated  with  the  desire  to  display 
this  quality.  These  offer  a  basis  for  experimentation,  wher- 
ever new  devices  are  necessary  to  secure  the  proper  effect. 
(3)  Formal  (3)  We  commonly  assume  that  formal  discipline  is  more 

discipline     general  than  any  other  kind.     This  is  probably  true,  though 

as  the  most          .  JT     .  * 

general        unimportant.     It  is  evident  that  formal  elements  are  rela- 
form  of        tional  in  character.     When  one  speaks  of  classes  of  situations, 

culture 

he  has  in  mind  usually,  if  not  invariably,  groupings  according 
to  form,  such  groupings  as  are  based  on  the  relation  of  the 
situations  to  our  practical  life.  Neatness  is  a  requirement  of 
a  form  of  situations,  because  it  cannot  be  defined  apart  from 
the  relation  between  its  material  and  the  persons  who  inspect 
or  use  it.  Such  relationships  may  be  very  general.  Indeed, 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          313 

it  is  likely  that  they  are  far  more  general  than  are  the  content 
factors  which  they  relate.  The  need  of  memorizing  is  more 
commonly  encountered  in  experience  than  is  any  fact  that  one 
needs  to  memorize.  It  is  difficult  to  draw  a  hard  and  fast  dis- 
tinction between  the  relational  and  the  related  factors,  the  form 
and  the  content,  of  experience.  However,  it  is  evident  that 
where  emphasis  is  thrown  on  relation,  there  we  have  form, 
and  that  there  are  certain  fundamental  forms  that  constitute 
typical  problems,  the  power  to  deal  with  which  is  a  constant 
asset  throughout  life.  The  acquisition  of  this  power  may 
properly  be  designated  as  formal  discipline.  Thus  we  may 
speak  of  training  to  attend,  by  which  we  mean  to  assume  the 
physiological  and  mental  adjustments  of  attention,  some  of 
which  are  more  and  some  less  general,  as  being  formal  disci- 
pline in  so  far  as  it  is  independent  of  the  content  to  which  atten- 
tion is  given.  Moreover,  as  the  adjustments  become  more 
and  more  adapted  peculiarly  to  one  content,  the  merely  formal 
character  of  the  discipline  would  seem  to  be  lost.  Attention 
to  a  color  is  dependent  on  the  memory  of  this  color,  as  well  as 
upon  the  general  adjustments  of  attention.  On  the  other  The  problem 
hand,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  content  elements  constantly 
recur  in  new  contexts,  and  so  may  be  regarded  as  general  in  same  for 
character.  Whatever  is  worth  knowing  can  be  used  repeatedly.  a°d  co°rm 
The  same  color  may  appear  again  and  again,  and  be  a  factor  in  tent 
problems  that  appeal  to  attention,  memory,  judgment,  and 
will.  Wherever  it  appears,  there  will  be  somewhat  of  similarity 
in  the  situations  and  in  the  reactions  demanded.  Knowledge 
is  always  of  the  universal  and  for  the  sake  of  determining 
readjustment.  If  it  seems  natural  and  appropriate  to  desig- 
nate one  phase  of  a  situation  as  its  form,  and  another  as  its 
content,  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  part  of  discipline  in 
reference  to  each  is  the  same;  i.e.  to  establish  associations  and 
reactions  which  these  factors,  when  they  recur,  may  invariably 


314  Principles  of  Education 

suggest.    Moreover,  discipline  in  adjustments  to  a  few  type 
forms  would  not  be  of  any  value  if  it  were  not  sustained  by 
familiarity  with  the  treatment  of  a  multitude  of  facts. 
(4)  General         (4)  But  education,  whether  in  form  or  in  content,  does  not 

discipline     sum  jtsejf  up  jn  specific  discipline,  in  the  establishment  of  den- 
necessary  *         L 
to  efiective  nite  associations.     It  includes  also  general  discipline,  or  the 

training  of  the  power  to  recognize  the  occasions  for  the  use  of 
habits  or  knowledge.     The  school  in  its  drill  has  often  failed 
to  single  out  the  universal  stimulus,  occasion,  or  reason  for  the 
habit  it  teaches.     It  has  just  drilled ;    drilled  without  intelli- 
gence, and  so  in  such  a  way  as  to  preclude  much  transfer  of  its 
effects.     But  even  intelligent  drill  is  not  enough.     There  must 
be  training   to  make   this   intelligence  available   and  forth- 
coming when  it  is  needed.     General  power  may  come  of  itself, 
but  it  is  likely  that  it  will  not  come  in  any  great  measure  unless 
it  has  been  nursed  by  training.     General  discipline  is  that  sort 
of  culture  which  we  have  discussed  in  connection  with  the  edu- 
Anaiogy          cation  of  the  reason.     Habits,  like  any  resources,  are  made 
fective"       available,  not  alone  by  being  shaken  loose  from  dependence 
training  in  UpOn  a  narrow  group  of  accidental  associations,  but  also  by 

concepts  .  .  .  ,  1-1 

the  acquisition  of  a  great  and  varied  mass  of  connections, 
accidental  or  essential,  so  that  their  recall  in  a  new  concrete 
situation  may  not  depend  on  too  tenuous  a  thread.  Again, 
the  formal  discipline  of  the  school  to  be  transferred  most  suc- 
cessfully should  be  acquired  in  a  school  atmosphere  that 
resembles  as  much  as  possible  that  of  life.  Moreover,  since  life 
is  varied,  and  requires  the  application  of  habits  and  principles 
with  proper  emendation  according  to  circumstances,  the  school 
environment  should  be  varied  and  consist  of  problems  in  the 
application  of  habits  as  well  as  knowledge.  Most  important 
of  all  the  habits  that  discipline  can  inculcate  are  those  rational 
attitudes  of  originality  and  criticism,  the  assumption  of  which 
is  the  most  favorable  condition  for  the  wide  and  accurate  ap- 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          315 

plication  of  other  attitudes  and  adjustments  that  culture  has 
instilled. 

(5)  When  we  come  to  the  matter  of  the  curriculum,  it  is   (s)  NO  study 
evident  that  no  study  should  exist  in  the  school  simply  because      giv°"n 
it  exercises  a  few  general  powers  and  develops  a  few  habits      merely  for 
that  may  be  extensively  employed.     The  only  adequate  justi-      discipline 
fkation  of  a  subject  is  that  the  habits  and  the  experience  that 
it  furnishes  sum  up  a  more  valuable  total  than  the  habits  and 
experience  that  its  introduction  excludes  from  the  curriculum. 
In  this  comparison,  no  gain  is  made  by  separating  formal  from 
content  values.     Both  are  equally  specific,  and  may  be  equally 
general.    The  method  of  study  is  a  factor  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance, but  because  of  this  fact  it  is  a  value  most  generally 
present  among  the  educational  advantages  of   subjects  and, 
therefore,  least  available  as  a  criterion  of  their  relative  excel- 
lence.    Men  are  prone  to  think  that  a  subject  worth  while 
only  for  its  methods  is  for  that  reason  more  valuable  for  method 
than  any  other.     The  exact  contrary  is  more  nearly  the  fact ; 
for,  as  we  have  seen,  a  method  studied  in  connection  with  a 
variety  of  matter  corresponding  to  that  which  is  mastered  in 
life  through  its  employment  is  one  most  likely  to  be  transferred 
to  living  situations. 

Here  it  may  be  urged  that  we  are  forgetting  the  importance  intensive 
of  intensive  as  against  extensive  study.     It  is  a  common  opin-      {"^JJoj 
ion  that  work  in  which  certain  methods  are  dwelt  on  to  the      should  be 
exclusion  of  other  interests  brings  these  methods  into  clear      wrtn'its 
relief,  emphasizes  their  nature,  and  drills  in  their  use,  so  that      use  with 
the  pupils  really  become  masters  of  them  in  a  degree  impossible      problems 
were  the  mind  absorbed  in  a  content  to  the  comprehension  of 
which  such  methods  are  only  auxiliary.     While  we  may  grant 
the  importance  of  intensive  study  to  be  fundamental,  we  may 
still  maintain  that,   taken  by  itself,  its  results  are  narrow. 
For  the  sake  of  discrimination  and  drill  certain  stimuli  and 


316  Principles  of  Education 

their  reactions  must  be  isolated  and  practiced,  but  for  the  sake 
of  their  practical  application  these  ideas  and  habits  must  be 
illustrated  and  used  in  a  variety  of  concrete  cases,  where  the 
main  interest  is  not  the  method  but  the  results  that  are  attained 
through  its  use.  Thus  in  the  last  analysis  method  and  content 
are  interwoven,  and  there  is  no  mastery  of  the  one  apart  from 
a  grip  upon  the  other. 

Difficulty  in  It  follows  that  no  subject  can  really  justify  itself  except  by 
appraising  showmg  that  it  is  through  and  through  interpenetrated  with 
of  subjects  vitality.  Content  and  form  should  both  contribute,  and  con- 
tribute in  alliance  with  each  other,  to  living  efficiency.  Here 
we  encounter  the  objection  that  in  modern  life  the  conditions 
are  so  complex  and  variable  that  it  is  exceedingly  difficult 
to  determine  with  any  approach  to  conclusiveness  the  relative 
value  of  subjects  for  practical  efficiency.  Indeed,  if  this  ques- 
tion were  settled  for  one,  it  would  by  no  means  be  settled  for 
all,  and  any  appraisement  of  value  for  one  time  would  doubt- 
less have  to  be  modified  before  many  years  had  passed.  The 
argument  from  formal  discipline  has,  as  we  have  seen,  gained 
much  of  its  attractiveness  from  the  difficulty  of  substituting 
for  it  satisfactory  methods  of  determining  relative  value. 
However,  this  difficulty  should  not  blind  us  to  the  inadequacy 
of  the  conception  as  a  criterion.  Disciplinary  values  depend 
in  final  reduction  upon  the  same  factors  as  any  other  ones. 
We  can  no  longer  plead  the  conception  of  a  vague  culture  of  the 
faculties.  Our  scientific  sense  cries  out  for  something  more 
definite,  more  decisive.  Perhaps  the  organization  of  educa- 
tional research,  of  which  we  are  now  witnessing  the  beginning, 
may  hold  in  store  for  us  at  least  an  approximation  to  the  solu- 
tion of  our  problem. 

Conclusion  In  conclusion,  then,  it  seems  likely  that  the  psychologists 
have  done  a  great  service  to  education  in  setting  aside  the  old 
conception  of  a  vague  formal  discipline,  and  thereby  clearing 


The  Question  of  Formal  Discipline          317 

the  way  for  a  study  of  definite  disciplinary  effects  and  the 
method  by  which  they  may  most  effectively  be  realized.  While 
teachers  will  doubtless  continue,  as  in  the  past,  to  value  most 
highly  those  general  attitudes  and  adjustments  which  consti- 
tute the  methods  by  which  the  human  mind  approaches  various 
classes  of  problems,  they  will  strive  to  ascertain  the  exact 
nature  of  these,  to  appraise  them,  and  to  set  them  side  by  side 
with  the  knowledge  of  content,  apart  from  which  they  can 
neither  be  acquired  nor  utilized. 


CHAPTER  XI 


Imitation 
the  most 
general 
form  of 
educative 
activity 


Imitation 
especially 
valuable 
as  a 

socializing 
agency 


IMITATION 

SECTION  35.     The  function  of  imitation 

THE  great  stress  that  genetic  psychology  and  sociology  have 
placed  upon  imitation  is,  doubtless,  in  large  measure  justified. 
While  it  is  possible  that  the  formula  of  the  "circular  activity" l 
is  not  all-explanatory  in  the  growth  of  human  powers,  and  that 
the  epigram  "society  is  imitation"  2  is  an  inadequate  account 
of  this  institution,  nevertheless,  these  conceptions  have  unques- 
tionably contributed  an  enormous  amount  to  the  comprehen- 
sion of  mental  and  social  evolution.  The  form  of  imitation 
is  one  of  the  simplest  and  most  universal  that  the  process  of 
individual  readjustment  can  take.  Granted  that  the  customs 
of  others  are  well  selected,  one  may  save  an  enormous  amount 
of  experimentation  if  he  has  a  tendency  to  imitate  them. 
In  general,  these  customs  are  far  more  useful  than  anything 
that  the  individual  could  learn  without  imitating.  Hence 
imitation,  so  far  from  being  regarded  with  scorn,  should  be 
considered  as  the  most  nearly  omnipresent  form  than  educative 
activity  assumes.  Recapitulatory  education,  as  social  hered- 
ity, consists  largely  of  imitations. 

The  adjustments  learned  by  imitation  find  their  especial 
value  in  affording  adaptation  to  social  life.  However,  they  may 
help  the  individual  to  effective  action  in  cases  where  only  iso- 
lated activity  is  concerned.  Men  imitate  methods  of  hunting 

1  Compare  Baldwin,  Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes. 

2  Compare  Tarde,  The  Laws  of  Imitation. 


Imitation  319 

and  fishing,  the  construction  and  manipulation  of  tools,  making 
and  using  fire,  clothing,  etc.,  thus  increasing  vastly  the  effi- 
ciency of  the  individual.  But  in  helping  them  to  cooperate, 
imitation  is  doing  a  service  that  far  surpasses  anything  it  can 
give  in  any  other  direction.  Cooperation  may  in  its  later 
developments  admit  of  individuality  and  specialization,  but  it 
finds  its  foundations  in  social  solidarity  or  conformity,  in  like- 
ness in  action,  feeling,  and  thought  among  the  members  of  the 
social  group.  It  is  mass  activity  rather  than  the  division  of 
labor  that  renders  early  society  especially  effective.  In  attack, 
in  defense,  in  warning  of  danger,  or  in  disseminating  informa- 
tion, in  assisting  in  the  gaining  of  food,  or  in  sharing  with  those 
who  are  temporarily  unable  to  get  what  they  need,  and  the 
like,  we  find  the  fundamental  uses  of  social  life.  In  fact,  it  is 
only  to  further  these  basic  common  purposes  that  specialization 
exists. 

Cooperation  is  so  valuable  an  instrumentality  in  the  struggle  consequent 
for  existence  that  the  societies  that  survive  are  as  a  rule  those      survival 

111  •  ?  i  ••  T\  •          M  •    i        value  of 

that  develop  a  maximum  of  such  activity.  Primarily  social  imitative- 
action  is  a  matter  of  instinct,  but  of  instinct  that  in  the  higher  ness 
animals  is  supplemented  and  in  man  overshadowed  by  imita- 
tion. Heredity  gives  a  foundation  of  similar  functions,  but 
imitation  brings  into  conformity  the  methods  by  which  these 
are  carried  out.  It  reduces  to  the  uniform  the  actions,  thoughts, 
and  feelings  of  men.  This  uniformity  enables  them  to  get  on 
with  each  other,  and  to  mass  activity  upon  common  purposes. 
Hence  man,  when  he  becomes  more  social,  becomes  more  imi- 
tative, and  since  social  action  is  so  important  an  adjustment, 
mankind,  especially  civilized  man,  seems  to  get  by  far  the  most 
important  part  of  his  education  through  imitation. 

Learning  by  imitation  finds  its  great  effectiveness  in  that  it 
goes  on  without  any  conscious  purpose.  By  the  mechanism 
of  certain  psycho-physiological  laws  one  inevitably  imitates 


320 


Principles  of  Education 


Imitation 
illustrated 
in  all 
phases  of 
learning 


Imitation  a 
selective 
process, 
for  (i)  it 
transmits 
selected 
habits ; 


(2)  it  is  en- 
forced by 
social  pres- 
sure, —  a 
selective 
agency ; 


the  models  that  his  environment  presents.  Of  course,  in  its 
more ,  advanced  forms,  imitation  is  under  the  control  of  will 
and  directed  by  reason.  Thus  there  are  all  stages  of  learning  by 
imitation,  from  mere  trial  and  error  approximation  to  a  pattern 
not  consciously  imitated  to  deliberate  copying  of  a  model 
supposed  to  be  desirable.  When  one  has  imitated  blindly  an 
effective  way  of  acting  or  thinking,  he  tends  to  realize  the  value 
of  the  result,  and  in  the  future  to  look  more  and  more  to  the 
models  of  others,  as  something  attention  to  which  cannot  fail 
to  produce  good  effects. 

Fundamentally  imitation  does  not  create  any  resources  of 
mind  or  body,  but  simply  furthers  a  selective  process  that  is 
ordinarily  of  very  great  advantage.  One  can  imitate  only 
what  he  can  do,  and,  indeed,  as  a  rule,  what  he  has  already 
done,  or  something  very  like  it.  When  we  seem  to  copy  some 
novel  act,  what  we  really  do  is  to  call  upon  our  resources,  in 
order,  by  experimentation  with  them,  to  approximate  to  the 
model  that  constrains  us.  This  model  is  a  selective  agency, 
serving  to  eliminate  our  false  efforts.  Through  its  control 
we  build  up  rapidly  a  habit,  which,  because  it  has  been  tested 
by  the  practice  of  society,  perhaps  for  ages,  is,  as  it  were,  the 
embodiment  of  ages  of  elimination.  Imitation  saves  time  and 
effort  in  experimentation.  It  is  an  agency  of  economy,  of 
selection. 

This  selective  function  of  imitation  continues  in  evidence 
in  connection  with  the  insights  and  standards  that  it  helps  to 
bring  to  consciousness.  These  are  especially  associated  with 
the  constitution  and  mechanism  of  society.  Since  society  is  so 
important  an  agency  for  survival,  the  efforts  of  man  are  directed 
largely  toward  adaptation  to  the  social  environment,  through 
which  all  other  necessities  of  life  are  to  be  obtained.  Social 
adaptation  is,  as  we  have  seen,  largely  a  matter  of  imitation. 
Moreover,  not  only  the  welfare  of  the  individual,  but  of  others 


Imitation 


321 


in  society  depends  upon  the  extent  to  which  he  conforms  or 
imitates.  The  imitative  person  is  the  socially  desirable  person. 
It  becomes,  therefore  the,  interest  of  society  to  compel  its  mem- 
bers to  imitate.  By  instinct  or  conscious  purpose  it  neglects, 
harries,  banishes,  outlaws,  destroys  the  individual  who  fails 
to  conform,  and  so  to  cooperate.  Thus  natural  selection  is 
supplemented  by  social  selection  in  the  elimination  of  the  non- 
imitative. 

The  intensity  of  this  social  pressure  forces  more  clearly  upon 
the  mind  of  the  individual  the  great  importance  to  him  of  doing 
and  thinking  after  the  fashion  of  others.  The  conception  of 
social  practice,  opinion,  and  attitude  becomes  a  standard  of 
judgment  in  the  selection  of  efficient  conduct.  In  order  to 
understand  how  to  conform,  the  individual  must  know  not  only 
what  others  are  doing  now,  but  he  must  learn  the  general  prin- 
ciples that  govern  their  actions.  He  must  penetrate  into  the 
nature  of  his  companions.  This  means  that  he  must  develop 
a  clear  consciousness  of  self  and  of  others  ;  that  is,  of  what 
may  be  called  the  social  elements.  He  must  realize  the  stand- 
ards to  which  other  persons  are  striving  to  conform,  standards 
which  they  are  applying  to  him  in  their  judgments  of  his  con- 
duct. He  must  attain  a  fairly  universal  concept  of  himself 
in  order  to  judge  as  to  whether  he  is,  on  the  whole,  conforming 
properly  to  the  principles  of  social  conduct.  In  short,  the 
comprehension  of  that  general  standard,  the  socially  accept- 
able, leads  to  the  conception  of  personality  both  in  self  and  in 
others,  and  to  the  specific  norms  on  the  basis  of  which  social 
conformity  may  be  attained. 

Imitation  operates  selectively,  but  it  is  also  the  most  excel- 
lent example  of  how  selection  operates  to  expand  resources. 
It  will  be  remembered1  that  this  comes  about  through  (i)  the 
establishment  of  fundamental  habits  or  concepts,  out  of 

1  Compare  §  27. 


(3)    it  leads 
to  a  knowl- 
edge of 
social 
standards, 
and  of  the 
minds  that 
think  them 


The  selected 
products  of 
imitation 
as  a  basis 
for  expan- 
sion of  re- 


322  Principles  of  Education 

the  combination  of  which  an  enormous  number  of  effective 
constructions  can  be  made  in  order  to  deal  with  new,  compli- 
cated situations ;  (2)  the  construction  and  reconstruction  of 
experience  by  the  application  of  standard  concepts,  so  that 
perception  becomes  sharper  and  richer  in  background,  memory 
more  accurate  and  complete,  and  the  memory  of  the  individual 
expanded  into  conformity  with  the  memory  of  the  social  group; 
(3)  the  reenforcement  of  the  memory  of  habit  by  bringing  it 
into  conformity  with  the  logical  relationships  revealed  by  the 
analysis  and  criticism  of  the  concepts.  Imitation  affords  help 
in  all  these  directions.  Perhaps  the  best  example  of  its  effec- 
tiveness is  to  be  found  in  language.  Articulate  language  is 
acquired  through  imitation.  But  it  sharpens  our  apprehension 
of  the  qualities  that  we  perceive  ;  it  stimulates,  defines,  and 
strengthens  the  imagination.  Both  as  oral  and  written,  it 
offers  a  most  extraordinary  help  to  memory,  ultimately  enabling 
the  individual  to  seize  and  retain  a  clear  and  consistent  picture 
not  only  of  his  own  past,  but  also  of  the  minds  of  others  and  the 
experience  of  the  race.  The  effects  of  language  upon  mental 
resources  are  merely  typical  of  those  of  any  product  of  imita- 
tive activity. 

The  general  function  of  imitation  is,  then,  to  be  found  in  the 
guidance  it  affords  to  the  process  of  experimentation.  Through 
conscious  or  unconscious  constraint  of  attention  to  the  models 
afforded  by  others  we  very  rapidly  attain  adjustments  that 
undirected  experimentation  would  find  very  difficult  or  impos- 
sible. These  adjustments  may  enable  the  individual  to  deal 
directly  with  nature  or  to  cooperate  with  society.  The  latter 
type  of  adjustment  constitutes  the  most  extensive  and  valuable 
of  the  contributions  of  imitation  to  the  equipment  of  man. 
In  society  it  is  necessary  that  nearly  all  should  cooperate,  or 
conform,  if  any  are  to  gain  an  advantage  from  this  source. 
Hence  society  compels  conformity,  imitation.  Thus  we  imi- 


Imitation  323 

tate,  not  only  unconsciously  and  because  we  see  the  advantage 
of  adopting  the  habits  of  others,  but  also  because  we  cannot 
get  on  without  accepting  their  standards.  In  striving  to  attaiii 
these,  we  must  come  into  a  knowledge  of  the  prevailing  ideals 
and  customs,  and  hence  must  become  acquainted  with  the 
minds  of  others  and  with  our  own  personality.  All  this  is 
essentially  a  process  of  selection,  contributory  to  judgment, 
but  it  reacts  on  one's  resources  by  clarifying  them,  criticising 
them,  using  them  in  reconstructing  and  in  constructing  images 
and  ideas,  the  memories  of  one's  past,  and  of  the  race.  Knowl- 
edge systematized  is  apt  to  be  firmly  memorized,  and  hence 
rendered  readily  available.  The  selective  function  of  imita- 
tion, and  the  resulting  enrichment  of  the  mind,  is  well  illustrated 
by  language,  one  of  its  most  important  products. 

SECTION  36.     Psycho-physiological  mechanism  of  imitation 

Imitation  may  be  defined  as  the  reproduction  of  the  acts  of  Definition  of 
others  as  a  result  of  perceiving  or  remembering  them.  The 
term  has  been  applied  in  a  wider  sense  to  include  the  repe- 
tition of  one's  previous  acts,  as  in  the  case  of  habits,  or  the 
revival  of  earlier  mental  states,  as  in  memory.  Here  one  is 
said  to  imitate  himself.  But  while  the  associations  that  ex- 
plain habit  and  memory  also  explain  imitation,  it  is,  perhaps, 
better  in  the  discussion  of  imitation  as  a  form  of  education  to 
confine  the  concept  to  acts  or  ideas  suggested  by  others. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  their  genesis,  acts  of  imitation  may  imitation  as 
be  divided  into  those  which  are  instinctive  and  those  which  are      st°nctive 
learned  or  acquired.     It  must  be  kept  in  mind  that  what  is  in-      and  ac- 

.  ,  .  quired 

stinctive  or  acquired  is  the  tendency  to  perform  an  act  in  re- 
sponse to  the  perception  or  thought  of  it.  Instinctive  imi- 
tative acts  seem  to  find  illustration  frequently  both  in  animals 
and  in  men.  Among  timid  animals,  such  as  sheep,  the  per- 


324 


Principles  of  Education 


Formation 
of  the 
"  imitative 
associa- 
tion" 


ception  of  a  companion  running  as  from  fear  will  usually  start 
imitative  acts.  Not  only  in  the  stampede,  but  also  in  other 
activities,  such  as  those  of  the  search  for  food,  etc.,  we  find 
what  seems  like  instinctive  imitation  among  the  lower  animals. 
Of  course,  it  is  always  possible  to  suppose  that  the  direct  stimu- 
lus to  the  imitative  act  is  not  the  perception  of  the  activity  of 
others,  but  rather  some  idea  of  danger,  food,  or  the  like  which 
is  suggested  by  this  perception.  What  actually  happens  on 
this  notion  is,  for  example,  that  the  chicken  perceives  another 
chicken  scratching.  This  suggests  the  notion  of  food,  and  this 
notion  in  turn  causes  the  chicken  that  gets  it  to  scratch. 

Whatever  we  may  say  about  instinctive  acts,  it  is  certain 
that  there  are  many  imitative  acts  that  are  acquired.  One 
learns  to  perform  an  act  on  perceiving  another  do  it.  Without 
doubt,  the  physiological  process  by  which  this  is  accomplished 
consists  in  the  formation  of  an  association  in  the  cortex  of  the 
brain  between  the  sensory  areas  that  are  excited  when  one  per- 
ceives or  imagines  a  certain  act,  and  the  motor  areas  that  con- 
trol the  performance  of  this  act.  The  establishment  of  such 
an  association  means  the  acquisition  of  control  over  the  move- 
ment. Such  control  is  originally  a  product  of  experimental 
activity.  It  rests  back  apparently  on  the  following  physio- 
logical law  of  association.  When  different  parts  of  the  cortex 
of  the  brain  are  excited  simultaneously  or  in  immediate  suc- 
cession, and  the  accompanying  experiences  are  satisfactory,  the 
two  parts  tend  to  become  connected,  so  that  the  subsequent 
reexcitement  of  the  one  tends  to  stir  up  the  other.  Now  as 
the  child  moves  in  a  random,  uncontrolled  fashion,  he  at  the 
same  time  gets  sensations  that  result  from  this  action.  He 
perceives  through  sight,  or  hearing,  or  touch,  or,  at  any  rate, 
through  the  kinaesthetic  sense,  what  he  has  done.  The  sensory 
areas  involved  in  perceiving  the  act  are  thus  excited  at  prac- 
tically the  same  time  as  the  motor  area  the  random  stimulation 


Imitation  325 

of  which  produced  it.  Hence  these  regions  become  associated ; 
that  is,  if  the  sense  of  the  activity  in  question  is  satisfactory. 
The  establishment  of  this  association  means  that  in  the  future 
the  excitement  of  the  sensory  areas  in  connection  with  the 
perception  or  thought  of  this  act  will  tend  to  spread  into  the 
motor  area  that  controls  it.  Hence  it  will  be  imitated. 

It  is  evident  that,   unless   the  association  just  described  imitative  as- 
exists  in  the  brain,  the  perception  of  an  act  will  not  lead,  ex-      de^dent 
cept  by  chance  or  by  voluntary  experiment,  to  its  reproduction,      on  the  per- 
Hence  children  do  not  learn  to  do  things  primarily  by  per-      onthTacts 
ceiving  them  done  by  others,  but  only  as  a  result  of  their  own      they  con- 
activity.     Only  thus  are  the  motor  areas  that  control  their 
muscles  brought  into  the  proper  association  with  the  sensory 
areas  concerned  in  the  perception  of  the  movements.     The 
perception  of  the  acts  of  others  may,  however,  start  random 
experimentation,  which  eventuates  in  the  successful  reproduc- 
tion of  these  movements.     In  that  case,  the  association  by 
which  imitation  is  made  possible  is  established,  and  this  is  the 
method  of  much  learning  by  imitation. 

Clearly  enough,  whenever  the  child  moves,  whether  it  be  Rise  of  "dr- 
reflex,  instinctive,  random,  or  experimental  activity,  the  re-      h^ancT" 
suits  are  apt  to  be  perceived,  and  the  sensori-motor  associa-      ^  "Ca- 
tion, which  may,  perhaps,  properly  be  called  the  "imitative 
association,"  tends  to  be  formed.     Thus  in  a  short  time  the 
child  has  developed  an  enormous  number  of  such  associations. 
Their  existence  involves  the  " circular  activity"  of  Professor 
Baldwin.     This  consists  in  the  tendency  for  an  act  to  be  con- 
tinually repeated,  because  its  performance  leads  to  its  per- 
ception,  and   this  again   to  its  performance.     Children  dis- 
play this  tendency  to  prolonged  repetition.     Moreover,  when 
a  child  has  formed  many  of  the  "imitative  associations"  he 
tends  to  reproduce  of  necessity  many  perceived  acts.    Any- 
thing that  he  can  do,  or  anything  like  what  he  can  do,  will  be 


326 


Principles  of  Education 


Imitation 
as  deter- 
mining 
the  asso- 
ciations 
that  shall 
survive 


The  imitative 
impulse  as 
instigating 
experi- 
ments 


mechanically  imitated.  He  reaches  an  imitative  age,  in  which 
his  actions  seem  largely  to  consist  of  mimicry. 

Such  imitation  of  what  the  child  has  already  learned  to  do 
strengthens  the  associations  involved  into  firmer  habits.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  imitative  association,  if  it  be  not  stirred 
into  activity  by  the  perception  of  others  performing  the  act 
to  which  it  leads,  will  tend  to  die  out  for  lack  of  use  and  nour- 
ishment. Thus  imitation  determines  survival  among  the  in- 
cipient associations,  stimulating  some  and  so  building  them 
up  into  habits,  and  eliminating  others.  This  process  may  not 
improperly  be  called  a  form  of  learning  by  imitation. 

We  may  distinguish  three  forms  of  learning  by  imitation, 
(i)  The  learning  that  consists  in  imitative  formation  of  hab- 
its out  of  some  incipient  associations,  and  the  neglect  of  others. 
This  may  be  regarded  as  learning,  inasmuch  as  the  habits 
that  are  thus  established  are,  on  the  whole,  those  best  calcu- 
lated to  enable  the  individual  to  get  on.  Like  all  learning, 
this  process  is  one  of  experimentation  and  selection.  The 
experiments  are  associations,  most  of  which  are  initiated  by 
non-imitative  impulses.  The  selection  is  under  the  control  of 
imitation.  (2)  Many  acts  are  for  the  first  time  performed 
under  the  stimulus  of  the  perception  of  similar  acts.  This 
mental  condition  starts  experimental  activity,  which  tends 
to  be  somewhat  like  the  apprehended  movements.  Now  if 
the  model  act  continues  to  be  kept  before  the  attention,  be- 
cause it  is  repeated,  or  because  it  possesses  interest  enough  to 
be  kept  clearly  in  memory,  or  because  of  an  effort  of  will, 
experimentation  may  continue  until  a  fairly  accurate  repro- 
duction is  for  the  first  time  made  by  the  child.  This  is  per- 
sistent imitation.  By  it  one  learns  to  do  what  he  has  never 
done  before.  Imitation  helps  to  initiate  experiments,  as  well 
as  to  determine  survival  among  them.  (3)  Consciousness 
may  enter  in  to  contrive  such  a  combination  or  modification  of 


Imitation  327 

acts  over  which  one  has  already  gained  control  as  will  conform  imitation 
to  the  model.     Here  the  starting  point  is  not  the  mere  impulse 
to  do  something  somewhat  like  what  is  perceived,  even  if  one     planned 
cannot  imitate  it  exactly;  but  there  is  a  consciousness  of  such 
impulses  and  of  the  acts  to  which  they  lead  which  directs  the 
imitative  process. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  it  is  likely  that  some  acts  The  imitative 
are  instinctively  imitated  The  "imitative  association"  may 
be  inborn  It  is  hard  to  be  certain  of  this,  however,  since  as 
soon  as  these  acts  are  performed  as  a  result  of  any  sort  of  stim- 
ulus, the  conditions  are  present  for  the  formation  of  the  "imi- 
tative association."  For  example,  chickens  may  run  and 
hide  long  before  they  do  these  things  as  a  result  of  perceiving 
others  acting  thus.  Nevertheless,  it  is  likely  that  this  act  is 
so  fundamentally  important  as  a  means  of  self-preservation 
that  it  and  the  emotions  that  are  excited  in  such  an  emergency 
can  be  roused  imitatively  as  well  as  by  the  perception  of  a 
hawk,  a  fox,  or  some  other  dangerous  foe.  It  is  hard  to  under- 
stand how  the  "imitative  associations"  could  be  so  well  and 
so  early  established  by  individual  experience  as  to  enable  them 
to  produce  such  perfect  terror  and  such  similarity  in  the  meth- 
ods of  protection.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  almost  certain 
that  there  is  genuine  instinctive  imitation.  Moreover,  there 
is  also  imperfect  instinctive  imitation.  It  is  likely  that  many 
centers  in  the  brain  are  naturally  in  close  connection  with  motor 
centers  that  control  the  movements  likely  to  result  in  the  sensa- 
tions in  which  they  are  concerned.  The  auditory  tract  seems  to 
be  naturally  connected  with  the  motor  centers  controlling  speech, 
so  that  the  hearing  of  sound  leads  at  once  to  the  production  of 
sound.  Such  inborn  connections,  although  vague,  may  assist 
much  toward  correct  imitation,  causing  the  early  responses  to 
certain  stimuli  to  come  nearer  a  reproduction  of  these  stimuli 
than  could  possibly  be  the  case  by  mere  random  reactions. 


328 


Principles  of  Education 


Growth  from 
uncon- 
scious to 
purposive 
imitation 


Voluntary 
imitation 
not  com- 
mon in  the 
lower  ani- 
mals 


Turning  again  to  the  classification  of  imitative  acts,  we  can 
distinguish  among  acquired  imitations  such  as  are  involuntary 
from  such  as  are  genuinely  voluntary.  Early  imitation  is,  as 
we  have  seen,  largely  a  matter  of  unthinking  mechanical  ne- 
cessity. We  imitate,  on  the  one  hand,  because  the  "imitative 
associations"  are  formed,  and,  on  the  other,  because  our  atten- 
tion is  constantly  directed  toward  those  supremely  interesting 
things,  the  movements  of  others  of  our  kind.  The  constant 
presence  of  models  that  can  be  imitated  combines  with  the 
mechanism  for  converting  the  perception  of  them  into  mimi- 
cry. Soon,  however,  in  intelligent  beings  both  the  fact  and  the 
advantages  of  imitation  become  apprehended  At  this  stage 
persistent  imitation  becomes  more  in  evidence.  From  a 
blind  tendency  that  seems  to  represent  a  sort  of  feeling  of  the 
desirability  of  continuing  experimentation  until  the  model  is 
reproduced,  it  becomes  a  purposeful  effort  to  do  what  is  seen 
to  be  a  desirable  thing.  The  awareness  of  the  superior  skill  of 
others,  and  of  the  prejudice  of  society  in  favor  of  imitation, 
both  assist  the  growth  of  voluntary  imitation. 

It  is  not  likely  that  the  lower  animals  imitate  voluntarily 
very  much,  if  at  all.  Herein  lies  the  reason  for  the  theory * 
that  they  do  not  learn  by  imitation.  They  do  not,  at  least  to 
any  extent,  repeat  the  acts  of  others  with  the  distinct  idea  of 
attaining  the  same  results  by  so  doing.  If,  for  example,  a 
monkey  gets  into  a  cage  by  opening  a  latch  that  it  has  ob- 
served another  monkey  or  a  man  to  manipulate,  it  may  be 
simply  imitating  the  act  upon  which  its  attention  is  fixed 
without  any  conscious  intention  of  thereby  effecting  a  certain  de- 
sirable result.  If,  however,  it  selects  the  specific  act  that  mas- 
ters the  situation  from  among  others  just  as  likely  in  themselves 
to  provoke  imitation,  it  would  seem  to  display  purposeful  imita- 
tion. Such  cases  are  described  by  Hobhouse.2  This  inves- 

1  Compare  Thorndike,  Animal  Intelligence.  z  Mind  in  Evolution. 


Imitation  329 

tigator  makes  the  point  that  the  ability  to  learn  through  imi- 
tation depends  very  largely  upon  the  animal's  power  of  atten- 
tion. If  it  be  able  to  attend  closely  enough  to  the  acts  of  a 
companion  to  note  what  movements  bring  about  the  desirable 
result,  it  can  learn  by  imitation.  With  most  animals  the  at- 
tention wanders  so  quickly  that  they  are  unable  to  note  the 
connection  between  a  specific  act  and  its  consequences.  They 
may  imitate  acts  without  reference  to  purposes,  but,  if  their 
minds  are  bent  on  purposes,  they  cannot  attend  also  to  the 
acts  by  which  these  are  attained.  Instead  of  learning  from 
its  companion  the  trick  of  opening  a  gate,  the  typical  dog 
simply  associates  this  clever  mate  with  the  removal  of  the 
obstacle.  It  apprehends  no  way  to  get  through  except  to 
seek  the  aid  of  the  dog  with  the  open  sesame.  Many  children 
betray  a  similar  lack  of  power  to  imitate  purposively. 

It  is,  however,  a  narrow  interpretation  to  limit  learning  by  Lower 
imitation  to  voluntary  imitation.  To  do  so  would  be  to  neg- 
lect  he  important  directive  influence  of  imitation  in  empha-  invohm- 
sizing  without  one's  knowing  it  appropriate  adjustments,  and 
in  stimulating  experiment  toward  these.  Doubtless,  lower 
animals  imitate  very  little  voluntarily,  but  mimicry  plays, 
nevertheless,  a  very  important  part  hi  helping  them  to  acquire 
effective  habits. 

From  the  genetic  point  of  view,  another  distinction  is  of  Growth 
the  same  importance  as  is  that  between  involuntary  and  vol- 


untary  imitation.     It  is  that  between  the  imitation  of  simple      of  simple 

J  acts  to  that 

acts  and  of  general  plans.     At  the  one  extreme,  we  have  the      Of  general 
mere  repetition  of  sounds,  gestures,  or  reflex  or  habitual  ac-     plan 
tivities,  such  as  coughing,  running,  or  hiding.     At  the  other, 
we  have  a  purpose  and  a  general  scheme  for  its  realization 
adopted  from  others,  but  the  specific  methods  by  which  it  is 
carried  out  may  vary  widely.     If,  inspired  by  the  success  of 
some  one  in  a  certain  profession,  a  young  man  chooses  to  fol- 


330 


Principles  of  Education 


Imitation 
of  general 
plans 
rarely 
found 
in  lower 
animals 


Summary 


low  this  career,  he  may  be  led  to  adopt  an  entirely  different 
course  in  order  to  prepare  therefor.  He  imitates,  but  only  in 
the  most  general  way.  The  adaptation  of  a  plan,  which  is 
suggested  by  the  example  of  others,  to  the  resources,  circum- 
stances, and  tastes  of  one's  own  life  provides  abundant  oppor- 
tunity for  reasoning.  Such  activity  begins  early  in  the  play 
life  of  the  child  in  what  is  known  as  dramatic  imitation.1 

Just  as  the  lower  animals  show  very  little  purposeful  imi- 
tation, so  they  are  rarely  found  to  imitate  and  adapt  a  plan. 
Hobhouse  cites  a  very  simple  case  illustrating  the  beginnings 
of  such  an  activity.  Food  is  placed  on  a  high  shelf,  and  at- 
tached thereto  is  a  string  which  dangles  down  within  reach. 
By  pulling  the  string  the  experimenter  secures  the  food  for  a 
dog.  Later  the  dog  gets  down  the  food  for  himself  by  pulling 
the  string  with  his  teeth.  The  situation  here  is  so  simple, 
and  the  adaptation  of  the  man's  movement  to  the  dog's  re- 
sources so  natural  and  inevitable  that  it  lies  quite  within  the 
range  of  brute  thinking.  It  illustrates  not  only  the  inception 
of  the  imitation  of  plans,  but  also  the  beginning  of  purposeful 
imitation. 

To  sum  up,  we  may  say  that  imitation  depends  upon  the 
existence  of  the  "imitative  association."  This  is  an  associa- 
tion between  the  sensory  area  concerned  in  the  perception 
or  thought  of  a  movement  and  the  motor  area  that  controls 
this  movement.  Such  associations  may  exist  hereditarily, 
in  which  case  we  have  instinctive  or  reflex  imitation.  Imper- 
fect instinctive  imitation  may  exist  where  the  imitative  asso- 
ciations are  vague  and  indefinite  instead  of  being  specific.  The 
imitative  association  may  be  formed  only  when  the  child  him- 
self makes  the  movement.  Such  associations  tend  to  be  estab- 
lished as  a  result  of  early  reflex  or  random  movements.  Learn- 
ing by  imitation  means  (i)  the  fixation  of  some  of  these 

1  Compare  Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study,  Ch.  VIII. 


Imitation  331 

associations  by  the  repetitions  suggested  by  the  example  of 
others,  or  (2)  the  experimentation  to  reproduce  an  observed  act 
not  yet  under  the  control  of  the  experimenter,  or  (3)  imitative 
experimentation  under  the  direction  of  reasoning. 

From  the  genetic  point  of  view,  imitation  begins  as  the 
spontaneous  imitation  of  simple  acts,  and  grows  through  the 
building  up  of  the  imitative  associations  and  the  growth  of 
knowledge  as  to  the  advantages  of  imitation  into  voluntary 
imitation,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  imitation  of  plans,  on  the 
other.  Voluntary  imitation  demands  purpose  and  a  certain 
power  of  persistent  effort.  It  finds  its  beginning  in  per- 
sistent imitation.  The  imitation  of  plans  involves  reasoning 
to  adapt  one's  resources  to  the  plan  he  is  copying.  It  is  early 
illustrated  in  the  dramatic  imitations  of  children. 

SECTION  37.    Psychical  effects  of  imitation 

We  have  just  seen  that  the  growth  of  the  imitative  function  imitation  as 
involves  enhanced  power  of  discrimination,  a  sense  of  the  su-      compelling 

x  discnmma- 

perior  efficiency  of  the  movements  of  others,  the  growth  of  a  tkmand 
purpose  .to  copy  them,  and  the  rational  power  to  adapt  the 
aims  and  plans  of  others  to  the  circumstances  of  one's  own 
life.  According  to  the  functional  view  of  mind,  we  discrimi- 
nate only  when  it  is  necessary  to  do  so  in  order  to  make  appro- 
priate reactions.  The  experience  of  imitation  is  full  of  blun- 
ders and  failures.  Accurate  and  successful  imitation  makes  a 
heavy  demand  upon  keen  discrimination  Again,  one  notes 
how  much  better  he  gets  on  when  he  happens  to  do  as  others  do 
than  when  he  simply  follows  his  own  devices.  This  advantage 
is  so  nearly  uniform  that  it  easily  grips  the  attention,  and  enables 
the  formation  of  a  purpose  to  imitate.  Such  a  purpose  in- 
creases the  amount  of  imitative  activity,  and  hence  puts  greater 
burdens  upon  the  powers  of  discrimination  and  of  reasoning. 


332 


Principles  of  Education 


Imitation 
the  basis 
of  social 
feelings 
and  in- 
sights 


Basis  of  the 
psychical 
effects  of 
imitation 


Community 
feeling  due 
to  instinc- 
tive or- 
ganic imi- 
tation 


Common 
feelings 
suggestive 
of  common 
ideas 


Thus  imitation  not  only  profits  by  mental  development, 
but  helps  it  on.  As  it  is  essentially  a  social  activity,  the  feel- 
ings and  insights  to  which  this  mental  development  leads  are 
mainly  social.  Moreover,  it  may  be  said  that  the  social  con- 
sciousness that  is  fostered  by  imitation  could  scarcely  find 
any  other  adequate  nurse.  We  may  group  this  consciousness 
under  three  heads  :  (i)  community  feeling  and  cognition ; 

(2)  consciousness  of  the  social  elements,  —  that  is,  of  the  self 
and  of  others  as  subjective  entities,  centers  of  consciousness ; 

(3)  consciousness  of   the  social  norms,  or  of   the  standards 
upon  which  social  judgment  and  action  are  or  should  be  based. 

The  mental  advances  that  imitation  promotes  are  a  result  of 
(i)  the  motor  experiences  that  it  affords,  (2)  the  problems  with 
which  it  faces  us,  and  (3)  the  attitudes  that  it  leads  us  to  take. 
Community  feeling  and  cognition  are  largely  an  outcome  of 
the  first  of  these  factors.  We  have  such  community  con- 
sciousness when  the  members  of  a  social  group  feel  similarly, 
or  perceive,  imagine,  or  think  about  the  same  things.  The 
common  activity  that  results  from  imitation  favors  com- 
munity feeling,  because  our  activities  determine  our  feelings. 
Here  we  may  again  invoke  the  James-Lange  theory  of  the 
emotions,  to  which  we  have  referred.1  It  will  be  noted  that 
the  bodily  activities  that  are  especially  concerned  in  rousing 
emotions  are  the  internal  organic  disturbances.  These  can, 
without  doubt,  be  propagated  by  imitation.  The  frightened 
acts  of  a  chicken  or  a  sheep  are  quickly  reproduced  by  their 
fellows,  with  resultant  spread  of  fear.  Such  imitation  may 
be  called  instinctive  organic  imitation,  and  it  is,  doubtless, 
the  basis  of  the  unreflective  sympathy  of  social  beings. 

Imitation  communicates  feelings  because  the  imitative  acts 
are  themselves  the  basis  of  the  feelings  they  transmit.  We  act 
similarly,  and  hence  feel  similarly.  It  communicates  ideas 

1  Compare  §  n. 


Imitation  333 

because  these  common  feelings  get  associated  with  similar 
ideas  and  constitute  a  powerful  agency  to  suggest  them.  To 
illustrate,  a  child  imitates  the  acts  of  fear.  Soon  he  feels 
frightened,  and  fear  stimulates  his  imagination  to  picture  out 
the  possible  source  of  danger.  The  definiteness  of  these 
images  will  depend  upon  the  vigor  of  the  imagination.  More- 
over, the  other  attendant  circumstances,  which  are  noted  by 
perception,  will  contribute  to  determine  the  specific  image 
that  is  held  to  be  most  likely  to  represent  the  danger.  We 
have  here  a  semi-logical  process  of  hypothesis  and  verification, 
such  as  appears  in  perceptual  control.  However,  the  extraor- 
dinary effectiveness  of  the  feelings  of  activity  in  controlling 
the  attention  must  be  kept  in  mind.  If  one  sees  a  companion 
exhibiting  fear,  and  begins  to  imitate  him,  it  requires  much 
reassuring  experience  to  dispel  the  images  of  danger  and  to 
check  the  reactions  that  excite  the  emotion. 

The  vigorous  emotions  are  not  the  only  motor  feelings  that  Common 
suggest    common    thoughts    to    imitating    individuals.     The 
general  direction  of  attention  and  the  tone  of  consciousness  are      and  same- 
largely  determined  by  the  sense  of  what  we  are  doing.     Motor      direction  C 
adjustments  settle  the  course  that  thought  shall  elect  to  take,      ofatten- 

...  .  tion 

Hence,  when  we  imitate  movements,  we  project  thought  into 
channels  similar  to  those  followed  by  our  models.  Merely  to 
express  one's  self  in  speech  and  writing  helps  one  to  control 
the  current  of  his  thoughts,  and  that  not  merely  because  the 
sound  or  sight  of  the  words  fixes  attention,  but  especially 
because  the  feelings  of  movement  dominate  it.  Hence  the 
imitation  not  only  of  the  expressions  of  emotion,  but  of  any 
sort  of  movement,  contributes  very  materially  to  render  thought 
uniform. 

The  community  feelings  and  ideas  that  imitation  spreads 
about  find  their  function  in  further  consequences  to  which  they 
lead.  As  we  have  seen,  the  feelings  and  especially  the  ideas 


334 


Principles  of  Education 


Interaction 
of  the 
thought 
and  feeling 
of  a  group 
through 
expression 
and 
imitation 


Resulting 
compre- 
hensive- 
ness and 
sanity  of 
common 
judgment 


of  the  imitator  will  differ  somewhat  from  those  of  the  model. 
First  of  all,  imitations  are,  of  course,  never  exact  reproduc- 
tions. The  imitation  is  characterized  by  the  peculiarities  of 
the  individual  who  produces  it.  It  is  also  determined  by  his 
special  situation,  which  is  always  a  little  different  from  that 
of  the  model.  Since  the  reactions  differ,  the  feelings  will  dif- 
fer. Moreover,  the  accompanying  perceptions  wih1  differ, 
since  imitated  and  imitator  occupy  somewhat  different  situ- 
ations. Finally,  the  trend  of  thought  is  determined,  not 
only  by  motor  feelings  and  present  perceptions,  but  also  by 
past  experience,  which  is  likely  to  differ  among  the  individu- 
als of  an  imitating  group.  Now  the  feeling  and  the  thought 
that  ensue  upon  imitation  are  the  stimuli  upon  which  subse- 
quent action  will  depend.  Hence  these  later  activities  among 
the  members  of  the  imitating  group  will  tend  to  differ  more 
and  more.  On  the  other  hand,  since  these  individuals  are 
continually  observing  and  copying  each  other,  there  is  a  con- 
stant tendency  for  these  variant  streams  of  feeling  and  thought 
to  return  through  expression  and  imitation  toward  a  common 
character. 

We  have  here  a  sort  of  a  social  mind  held  together  by  the 
associative  links  of  imitative  activity,  similarity  in  emotional 
and  cognitive  nature,  and  common  circumstances  and  expe- 
rience. On  the  other  hand,  the  mental  differences  bring  to 
bear  upon  the  common  action  a  variety  of  experiences,  indi- 
vidual attitudes,  and  points  of  view,  that  all  contribute  some- 
what to  the  resulting  group  activity.  The  interplay  of  thought 
and  feeling  among  the  individuals  of  an  imitating  group  is 
somewhat  like  the  reflective  processes  of  a  deliberating  in- 
dividual, in  whom  new  considerations  derived  both  from  per- 
ception and  from  memory  are  continually  appearing  and  de- 
termining the  drift  of  mind  toward  judgment.  There  can  be 
little  doubt  that,  however  extreme  and  unbalanced  some  of 


Imitation 


335 


its  consequences  may  be,  the  social  mind  that  imitations  foster 
contributes,  on  the  whole,  comprehensiveness  and  sanity  to 
the  common  action.  This  is  especially  in  evidence  when  imi- 
tative activity  takes  the  form  of  language. 

The  second  important  psychical  advance  to  which  imita- 
tion leads  is  the  growth  of  self-consciousness  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  other  minds.  This  phase  of  mental  genesis  has  been 
exploited  especially  by  Professor  Baldwin.1  It  is,  of  course, 
peculiar  to  human  beings,  as  no  one  of  the  lower  animals  can 
be  supposed  to  be  capable  of  the  memory,  the  comparisons,  and 
the  distinctions  that  are  necessary.  The  details  of  the  process, 
called  by  Baldwin  "the  dialectic  of  personal  growth,"  may  be 
condensed  as  follows :  - 

The  child  first  establishes  his  physical  orientation.  He 
distinguished  his  own  body  from  other  objects.  His  own  body 
is  peculiar,  in  that  it  yields  sensations  when  objects  come  in 
contact  with  it,  and  yields  pain  when  these  contacts  are  too 
rough.  Moreover,  unlike  other  things,  it  is  always  present 
and  is  under  the  direct  control  of  the  child's  impulses.  But 
other  objects  are  to  be  separated  into  classes.  Some,  the 
bodies  of  other  animals,  are  especially  interesting.  They 
move,  and  moving  objects  are  very  attractive  to  the  attention. 
Moreover,  they  move  in  ways  unaccountable  to  the  child, 
and  are  hence  provocative  of  curiosity.  The  movements  of 
persons  possess  the  additional  interest  of  contributing  in  the 
most  marked  way  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  child's  desires,  both 
social  and  individualistic.  So  far,  however,  mental  analysis 
has  not  made  use  of  the  guidance  of  imitation,  and  the  subjec- 
tive worlds  of  self  and  of  others  have  not  been  directly  appre- 
hended. 

It  has  been  seen,  however,  that  all  this  interest  in  the  acts 
of  persons  will  render  certain  as  much  spontaneous  imitation 
1  Compare  the  two  volumes  on  Mental  Development. 


Imitation 
as  a  source 
of  the  con- 
sciousness 
of  self  and 
others 


Causes  of 
interest  in 
one's  own 
'body  and 
in  those  of 
others 


336  Principles  of  Education 

imitation        of  them  as  the  physical  organization  of  the  child  will  permit, 
(ilthe  sub-  Such  imitations  yield  new  motor  feelings,  new  emotions,  and 
jective  side  suggest  new  ideas.     Thus   the   child  gets  the   "subjective" 
andof ^if ;  ^e  of  the  acts  of  others.     If  he  possesses  adequate  memory, 
he  can  project  these  new  experiences  back  into  the  person  whom 
he  has  imitated,  or  into  any  other  person  who  may  act  simi- 
larly.    To  perform  certain  acts  means  to  get  experiences  dif- 
ferent from  what  one  gets  by  merely  observing  them.     Others 
who  are  acting  are  discovered  to  feel  differently  from  the  self 
which  is  perceiving  their  acts.     They  are  having  the  same 
feelings  as  the  self  gets  when  it  imitates  these  acts.     Thus 
other  minds  get  differentiated  from  the  self. 

(2)  the  self  of      The  ejection  of  subjective  selves,  with  their  attendant  feel- 

cy;  ings,  emotions,  and  ideas,  into  the  activities  of  others  enables 
a  sharp  discrimination  and  definition  of  one's  own  self.  Thus 
the  sense  of  subjectivity,  so  fundamental  to  self -consciousness, 
is  born  and  developed.  But  in  connection  with  this  subjec- 
tive notion  of  the  self,  there  develops  another  factor  of  funda- 
mental importance.  It  is  the  sense  of  the  power  of  the  self  to 
do  and  to  think.  The  child  recognizes  that  in  imitating  others 
it  is  doing  those  remarkable  things  for  which  they  are  especially 
interesting.  What  others  have  done  for  it,  it  comes  to  do  for 
itself.  It  becomes  aware  of  itself  as  a  center  of  power  hitherto 
regarded  as  foreign,  if  not  mysterious.  To  the  subjective  self 
of  feeling  is  added  the  self  of  agency. 

(3)  the  value       The  independence  of  the  assistance  of  others  that  the  child 

r  gams  by  imitating  their  acts  when  they  do  desirable  things 
develops  still  further  when  the  child  comes  to  imitate  difficult 
acts.  Here  simple  imitation  is  replaced  by  persistent  imita- 
tion. Under  the  pressure  of  a  conviction  that  imitation  is 
always  possible  and  always  an  open  sesame  to  desirable  results, 
the  child  puts  forth  effort,  and  thus  learns  what  is  commonly 
called  the  force  of  his  will.  If  he  deliberately  persists  in  the 


Imitation  337 

face  of  discouragement,  he  may  often  gain  results  otherwise 
impossible.  Thus  the  sense  of  agency  expands  from  a  feeling 
of  power  to  do  what  others  do  to  a  sense  of  independence,  and 
from  thence  to  an  awareness  of  the  value  of  effort,  of  force  of 
will. 

The  imitations  of  the  child  reveal  to  him  not  only  how  (4)  the 
others  feel,  but  also  many  results  of  their  action  which  were 
not  evident  to  mere  observation.  Many  apparently  capri- 
cious acts  are  seen  to  have  a  motive.  Moreover,  the  point  of 
view  of  the  actor  is  in  any  case  a  more  favorable  one  from 
which  to  apprehend  the  purpose  of  the  act  than  is  that  of  the 
observer.  Thus  the  child  penetrates  through  imitation  not 
only  into  the  inner  feelings,  the  heart  of  his  companions,  but 
also  into  their  motives.  Human  activity  becomes  suffused 
with  intensity  and  significance,  with  emotion  and  purpose. 
Behind  those  bodies  there  are  discovered  minds,  the  contents 
of  which  soon  become  more  mysteriously  fascinating  because 
they  constitute  a  newly  discovered  country,  with  wealth  the 
extent  of  which  can  only  be  vaguely  imagined. 

The  discovery  of  new  motives  and  attitudes  to  eject  into  the  (s)  the  atti- 
minds  of  others  is  particularly  favored  by  imitating  such  con-      standards 
duct  as  centers  about  the  treatment  of  companions.     In  re-     of  society 
producing  what  others  do  when  they  command,  teach,  cajole, 
manipulate,  trick,  criticise,  and  ridicule  others,  or  when  they 
are  obedient  or  loyal  or  admiring  or  helpful  or  sympathetic,  the 
child  becomes  aware  of  a  group  of  motives  and  judgments 
that  others  are  directing  toward  himself.     He  learns  the  pres- 
ence of  what  Professor  James  calls  the  "social  me."     In  taking      The  "social 
certain  attitudes  toward  others  he  learns  how  large  a  part  such 
mental  states  have  in  determining  his  welfare.     He  becomes 
aware  of  social  pressure  in  a  new  and  profounder  sense,  —  the 
force  of  that  mass  of  opinion  and  feeling  that  constitutes  his 
standing.     He  learns  that  a  most  important  part  of  what  he 


333 


Principles  of  Education 


Knowledge  of 
the  minds 
of  others 
reveals 
(i)  the  self 
of  memory ; 


is  depends  upon  others  and  he  begins  to  look  to  others  to  as- 
certain more  clearly  what  he  can  expect  and  do. 

Out  of  this  tendency  to  look  back  upon  himself  from  the 
standpoint  of  others  the  consciousness  of  the  self  of  memory 
and  the  self  of  character  are  born  to  supplement  the  mere  sense 
of  subjectivity  and  of  power.  The  experiences  that  are  ac- 
cepted as  true  memories  are  at  first  largely  such  as  meet  accep- 
tance. The  true,  as  distinguished  from  the  imagined  past, 
must  stand  the  test  of  social  criticism  Out  of  the  judgments 
of  others  the  child  is  led  to  construct  the  history  of  his  life,  his 
self  of  memory.  But  he  does  not  continue  to  await  the  ver- 
dict of  society  before  pronouncing  on  the  validity  of  a  mem- 
ory. Indeed,  he  discovers  himself  to  be  part  of  that  judging 
society.  Moreover,  he  finds  internal  as  well  as  external  tests 
of  truth.  The  peculiar  familiarity  that  belongs  to  memories 
and  the  coherence  with  the  general  current  of  his  past  are 
criteria  which  may  overbear  the  opinions  of  others.  Our 
companions  would  make  us  admit  that  we  have  done  things 
that  we  feel  sure  we  have  not  done.  We  learn  that  the  inner 
world  of  experience  is  after  all  a  private  history,  that  only  we 
ourselves  can  hope  to  read  aright. 

Especially  are  we  convinced  of  this  as  we  come  more  and 
more  to  realize  our  characters.  The  consciousness  of  one's 
character  is  at  first  a  summation  of  the  opinions  of  others.  But 
we  come  to  know  that  they  may  err  in  these  judgments.  They 
would  make  us  feel  as  we  do  not  feel,  or  have  ideas,  motives, 
powers  that  we  know  we  do  not  possess.  Introspection,  pro- 
voked and  guided  by  the  awareness  of  objective  attitudes 
toward  the  self,  soon  learns  their  inadequacy,  their  error,  their 
injustice.  Thus  the  sense  of  the  private  self,  with  its  inner 
history,  with  its  memories  and  its  feelings,  with  its  past  and 
its  ambitions,  unsearchable  by  all  save  their  possessor,  comes 
to  consciousness  as  representing  the  true  character,  the  true  self. 


Imitation  339 

The  growth  of  the  consciousness  of  personality,  whether  in   (3)  the 
self  or  others,  means  that  community  consciousness  becomes      world"* 
objectified  in  a  mysterious  world  of  spirits  that  lies  behind  or 
beyond  the  objects  of  sense.     These  persons  are  seen  to  be 
fundamentally  related  to  nearly  all  the  practical  emergencies 
of  life.     Their  inner  life  becomes  so  absorbingly  interesting  as 
to  reduce  the  physical  world  to  a  mere  symbolism  of  the  mind 
that  lies  behind.     It  becomes  the  mechanism  for  the  expres- 
sion, the  spreading  abroad,  of  certain  phases  of  the  inner 
life. 

Thus  through  imitation  there  is  developed  a  community  imitation 
consciousness,  which  is  again  differentiated  into  the  inner  life 
of  personalities.  Imitation  controls  the  process  of  expansion 
in  the  mind  of  each  individual,  so  that  it  proceeds  along 
common  lines  and  develops  common  concepts.  This  process  of 
growth  is  governed  by  certain  criteria,  certain  principles  of 
selection  or  judgment.  We  may  call  these  the  social  norms, 
and  their  discovery  constitutes  a  third  contribution  of  the  imi- 
tative process  to  mental  development.  The  simplest  of  these 
norms  is  that  of  the  socially  acceptable.  By  imitation  the 
child  comes  to  exert,  as  well  as  to  feel,  social  pressure,  and  so 
to  ascertain  in  his  own  person  the  motives,  the  principles,  that 
lie  behind  it.  If  the  child  is  not  only  to  obey,  but  also  to  com- 
mand, not  only  to  be  condemned  or  approved,  but  also  to  judge 
and  punish  or  reward,  he  must  get  behind  the  merely  socially 
acceptable  to  the  conditions  that  determine  social  practice. 
Thus  he  arrives  at  notions  of  the  customary,  the  authoritative, 
the  appropriate,  the  right.  He  differentiates  the  interests  of 
self  from  those  of  others,  and  discovers  those  universal  social 
standards  that  are  above  both. 

In  his  early  conduct  the  standards  of  the  child  are  uncriti- 
cally taken  in.  But  as  experience  accumulates,  there  comes 
the  strife  of  motives,  the  conflict  of  inconsistent  criteria  de- 


340 


Principles  of  Education 


The  strife 
of  motives 
and  the 
rise  of  in- 
depen- 
dence 


The  stand- 
ards re- 
ferred to 
an  inner 
origin 


rived  from  different  sources  or  even  from  the  same  source  at 
different  times.  The  child  faces  new  situations  in  which  these 
older  principles  find  verification  or  confutation.  He  delib- 
erates, and  in  the  logical  processes  that  which  has  been  earlier 
passively  absorbed  is  subjected  to  an  inner  selection.  Thus 
eventually  he  reaches  the  notion  of  right,  which,  as  distin- 
guished from  either  the  customary  or  the  authoritative,  seems 
to  be  the  product  of  an  inner  self,  a  reason  or  conscience. 
Here  we  have  that  interplay  of  experience  and  reason,  of  the 
empirical  and  rational  tests  of  truth,  which  was  earlier  re- 
ferred to  in  connection  with  the  evolution  of  judgment. 

As  we  shall  again  take  up  these  norms  in  connection  with  the 
social  mechanism  of  imitation,  we  may  here  dismiss  them  with 
the  remark  that,  even  before  they  are  subjected  to  rational 
criticism,  they  acquire  a  peculiar  sense  of  having  originated 
from  within,  because  of  the  manner  in  which  the  imitative  ac- 
tivity through  which  they  are  learned  impresses  the  feelings. 
Coming  through  the  active  process,  they  seem  like  a  revela- 
tion of  immediate  experience.  And,  indeed,  this  view  is  not 
false  to  the  ultimate  facts.  For  while  social  intercourse  and 
imitation  may  be  the  medium  through  which  we  come  to 
realize  the  feelings,  ideas,  and  standards  of  others,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  we  must  have  the  inherent  power  to  feel  and  think 
and  evaluate  after  the  fashion  of  the  models  that  we  copy,  or 
imitation  would  leave  the  inner  life  eventless.  This  is  but  a 
reiteration  of  the  principle  so  frequently  emphasized,  that  the 
conditions  of  life  do  not  create  the  functions  of  the  living,  but 
rather  select  those  that  are  suitable  by  eliminating  the  others. 
Imitation  is  a  function  that  brings  us  into  contact  with  the  con- 
ditions of  social  life.  It  is  primarily  a  selective  activity,  the 
special  service  of  which  is  to  encourage  in  the  imitator  the 
retention  and  cultivation  of  such  thoughts  and  feelings  as  are 
peculiar  to  the  mass  of  his  fellows.  It  inducts  us  into  the  inner 


Imitation  341 

life  of  other  personality,  by  helping  us  to  distinguish  the  ex- 
periences that  are  representative  of  such  life. 

We  may  sum  up  by  saying  that  imitative  activity  is  activity  Summary 
directed  along  lines  most  likely  to  prove  an  aid  to  effective 
mental  development.  It  puts  us  in  a  position  where  dis- 
crimination is  necessary,  and  what  we  thus  distinguish  is  pe- 
culiarly important  in  reference  to  the  practical  emergencies  of 
life.  It  affords  a  great  opportunity  for  adaptive  reasoning. 
It  helps  us  to  conceive  purposes,  by  revealing  the  value  of 
imitation,  thus  giving  rise  to  the  purpose  to  imitate.  It  teaches 
us  the  value  of  effort.  It  affords  among  the  imitating  individu- 
als an  interplay  of  feelings  and  emotions,  ideas  and  motives  that 
constitutes  a  social  mind  far  more  flexible  and  at  the  same  time 
far  more  comprehensive  and  deliberative  than  the  unaided 
mind  of  a  single  person.  Through  the  feelings  that  it  pro- 
duces and  the  ideas  that  they  suggest,  it  leads  us  to  distin- 
guish the  social  elements,  the  self  and  other  selves,  with  their 
private  subjective  life  of  feeling,  motive,  ideals,  character. 
From  these  insights  we  gradually  build  up  a  consciousness  of 
the  social  norms,  the  customary,  the  authoritative,  the  ap- 
propriate, the  right.  All  these  criteria  are  transmuted  by  the 
experience  of  imitation,  and  especially  by  the  aid  of  logical 
reorganization  on  the  part  of  each  individual,  into  standards 
of  the  inner  subjective  self. 

SECTION   38.    Social  mechanism  of  imitation 

In  the  last  section  we  approached  the  subject  of  imitation 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  individual,  of  the  subjective 
life.  There  remains  to  consider  it  from  the  standpoint  of 
objective,  social  activity.  The  'social  mechanism  of  imita- 
tion is  the  essence  of  social  heredity,  and  so  the  basic  form  of 
education. 


342 


Principles  of  Education 


Society  as  an 
interplay 
of  imita- 
tions 


Imitation 
spreads  in 
geometri- 
cal pro- 
gression 


Opposition 
and  adap- 
tation 


The  epoch-making  writer  on  this  subject  is  M.  Tarde.1  To 
him,  society  in  the  last  analysis  consists  essentially  of  the  inter- 
play of  imitations.  Uniformity,  law,  reduces  itself  in  the 
physical  world  to  the  repetitions  of  vibration,  in  the  biological 
realm  to  those  of  heredity,  and  in  the  world  of  psychology  to 
those  of  imitation.  Forms  of  activity  appearing  in  the  begin- 
nings of  human  history  have  been  by  countless  generations  imi- 
tatively  reproduced,  until  they  have  come  to  play  a  part  in  the 
conduct  of  the  civilized  man  of  to-day.  Models  for  imitation 
spread  in  all  directions,  like  the  waves  from  a  point  of  dis- 
turbance in  the  water.  Not  only  do  they  extend  in  space,  but 
also  in  time,  for  what  one  does  he  himself  imitates  later, 
and  ultimately  incites  another  generation  to  reproduce.  Self- 
imitation  shows  itself  physically  in  habit,  mentally  in  memory. 
In  short,  psychological  continuity  rests  primarily  upon  the 
imitative  process. 

Such,  at  a  glance,  is  the  conception  of  Tarde,  and  we  must 
admit  that  it  is  striking,  and  that  it  affords  at  least  an  impor- 
tant aspect  of  truth.  The  fundamental  phases  of  the  activity 
of  imitation  Tarde  analyzes  as  follows:  First  of  all,  each  imi- 
tator becomes  himself  a  center  for  the  spread  of  the  model. 
What  one  does  a  number  imitate,  and  each  of  these,  we  may 
assume,  will  on  the  average  be  imitated  by  an  equal  number. 
Thus  the  model  is  spread  abroad  in  geometrical  progression. 
The  inevitable  consequence  is  that  various  models  should  come 
in  conflict  with  each  other.  Any  individual  will  find  himself 
a  member  of  different  imitating  groups,  as  it  were.  He  will 
apprehend  successively  different  activities,  and  the  tendency 
to  imitate  the  new  will  come  in  conflict  with  that  to  reproduce 
the  old.  Thus  we  have  what  Tarde  calls  opposition.  But 
opposition  does  not  mean  the  mere  paralysis  of  the  activities 
that  come  in  conflict.  Rather  do  they  struggle,  with  the  result 
1  Les  Lois  de  Vlmitalion. 


Imitation  343 

that  either  the  one  or  the  other  is  victorious,  or  a  compromise 
is  effected.  In  any  case,  it  may  be  said  that  the  resolution  of 
any  such  opposition  tends  to  be  in  the  direction  of  adaptation. 
Thus  imitation  becomes  the  parent,  as  it  were,  not  only  of 
continuity,  but  also  of  variation,  and  an  agency  fundamentally 
conservative  proves  a  most  fertile  source  of  originality. 

It  is  evident  that  the  situation  here  described  by  Tarde  corre-  The  conflict 
sponds  to  that  in  which  ideational  readjustment  evolves.     The      °s  Tstrug- 
factors  which  we  have  traced  in  that  process  we  may  again      sle  to  ^e 

...  11.  -the  atten- 

note  in  their  objective  aspect  as  we  study  the  interplay  of     tion. 
models  for  imitation.     To  begin  with,  there  are  two  typical  Se"lement 

J  r  by  ascen- 

results  of  a  struggle  of  models.  First,  there  may  be  a  waver-  dancy  or 
ing  of  attention  to  and  fro  among  the  patterns  suggested  by 
memory,  with  an  ultimate  ascendancy  of  one,  and  a  sinking  of 
the  others  into  a  more  or  less  permanent  oblivion.  Second, 
these  patterns  may  combine  into  new  schemes  of  action, 
having  some  of  the  elements  of  each.  It  is  likely  that  as  a 
rule  any  conflict  results  in  an  activity  that  may  be  said  to  be 
predominantly  the  reproduction  of  one  model,  but  not  without 
influence  from  others.  Ideation  concludes  in  the  victory  of  a  cer- 
tain plan,  but  the  others  are  not  quite  banished.  Instead,  they 
remain  to  affect,  wherever  this  is  easy,  the  details  of  its  execution. 

In  its  earliest  phase,  the  struggle  of  models  is  determined  Unconscious 
by  forces  of  which  the  imitator  is  not  clearly  conscious.     On 


the  subjective  side  we  note  three  such  influences:   instinct,      tention: 
habit,  and  the  intensity  of  the  impressions.     One's  nature  may      jective 
make  it  especially  easy  for  him  to  imitate  certain  models.     It      influences, 

1  J  J  t  instinct, 

is  likely  that  the  Indian  finds  it  inherently  more  easy  to  copy  habit,  and 
his  wild  life  than  the  ways  of  civilization.  However  this  may 
be,  it  seems  clear  that  children  in  the  same  environment  in- 
stinctively  prefer  different  models.  So  far  as  observation  has 
gone,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  disentangle  the  preferences 
due  to  instinct  from  those  dependent  on  habit.  Undoubtedly, 


344 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  objective 


prestige. 

intensity 
of  impres- 

sion  and  by 

prestige  in- 


intelligence 


as  a  rule,  they  combine.  Children  are  led  by  early  and  con- 
stant association  to  form  the  habits  of  family  and  race.  These 
are  the  activities  to  which  one  may  suppose  their  hereditary 
nature  predisposes  them. 

As  against  the  forces  of  heredity  and  habit,  a  keen  mental 
sensitivity  operates  to  secure  attention  to  variant  models. 
The  more  alert  the  mind,  the  more  intense  a  novel  stimulus 
may  become.  Hence,  as  intelligence  evolves,  the  possibility 
of  breaking  the  grip  of  heredity  and  habit  by  new  and  striking 
models  increases. 

Corresponding  to  these  subjective  influences,  we  have  the 
ODJective  ones  of  custom  and  prestige.  Custom  reenforces 
by  iteration  the  tendency  of  a  model  to  seize  attention  and  to 
become  a  habit.  Variant  models  are  submerged  by  the  one 
prevailing  type.  On  the  other  hand,  prestige  may  lend  these 

. 

unusual  patterns  a  force  that  enables  them  effectively  to  hold 
the  attention-  It  is  evident  that  with  the  growth  of  power  of 
consciousness,  the  novel  and  the  striking  will  become  more 
clearly  differ  ntiated  from  the  customary,  and  it  will  become 
increasingly  possible  for  the  individual  to  feel  the  influence  of 
prestige.  Preferential  imitation  is  a  function  of  developing 
intelligence.  At  first,  however,  prestige  is  not  the  result  of 
the  possession  on  the  part  of  the  model  of  attributes  which  are 
clearly  recognized  as  good  reasons  for  preferential  imitation. 
It  depends  upon  force  of  manner  or  such  practical  success  in 
the  contests  of  social  life  as  compels  attention.  The  conqueror 
must  be  observed,  and  a  striking  personality  is  part  of  his  equip- 
ment. One  imitates  unreflectively  the  person  with  prestige, 
yet  there  is,  doubtless,  a  general  gain  from  such  activity.  If 
prestige  goes  with  success,  it  makes  likely  the  imitation  of  that 
which  produced  the  success.  If  it  is  an  attribute  of  leadership, 
it  makes  for  that  cooperation  with  the  leader  by  which  society 
is  made  strong. 


Imitation  345 

The  control  of  attention  and  of  imitation  by  prestige  is  the  Conflict 
immediate   forerunner    of    reflective,    critical   imitation.    As 
we  have  seen,  it  is  dependent  upon  considerable  intelligence,      withpres- 
and  it  also  opens  an  opportunity  for  such  variation  as  is  apt  to  R^  of  judg- 
force  upon  the  alert  mind  the  value  or  lack  of  value  of  imitation.      ment 
As  prestige  wars  with  custom,  so  it  wars  with  itself.    Many  com- 
pete for  recognition,  for  leadership  ;   and  while  the  struggle  is 
at  first  not  settled  by  an  appeal  to  critical  judgment  as  to  the 
relative  excellence  of  rival  aspirants,  nevertheless,  such  com- 
parisons are  instituted,  and  with  the  progress  of  time  they 
become  more  constant  and  thoroughgoing.    The  judgment  is 
likely  first  to  attack  the  problem  of  the  general  effectiveness 
of  an  individual.   When  this  is  once  established,  prestige  follows, 
and  it  extends   to  all  the  acts  of  the  person  who  possesses 
it.     At  this  stage  there  is  no  tendency  to  question  each  of  these 
acts  on  its  own  merit  as  a  desirable  model  for  imitation. 

The  appearance  of  consciousness  as  to  the  value  of  imitation  Rise  of  con- 
and  critical  judgment  in  reference  to  the  models  that  are  fol-      approved 
lowed  means  the  formulation  as  standards  of  judgment  of  the      prestige  or 
various  factors  that  have  proved  effective  in  the  control  of 
unreflective  imitation.     Thus  custom  becomes  a  recognized 
justification  for  certain  models,  while  the  natural  or  supposed 
supernatural  abilities  of  certain  individuals  are  held  to  give  them 
supreme  reliability  as  patterns  for  action  or  thought.     The 
idea  of  the  authoritative  appears.     The  authoritative,  whether 
it  be  custom  or  the  practice  of  an  authoritative  individual, 
gains,  because  it  is  consciously  recognized  as  a  standard,  addi- 
tional prestige,  or  compelling  force. 

The  reflective  determination  of  the  authoritative  means  the  Support  of 
appearance  in  society  of  a  conscious  endeavor  to  sustain  and 
to    enforce    its    control.     The    authoritative    is    sanctioned;      tions 
that  is,  a  penalty  is  inflicted  upon  those  who  do  not  conform. 
This  sanction  is  the  natural  method  by  which  society  compels 


346 


Principles  of  Education 


Natural  not 
distin- 
guished 
from  arti- 
ficial sanc- 
tions 


Social,  re- 
ligious, 
and  legal 
sanctions 


Instinctive 
basis  of 
the  social 
sanction 


the  individual  to  obey  customs  that  are  in  the  interest  of  the 
established  order.  But  it  is  not  limited  to  this  use.  It  is 
applied  indiscriminately  to  practices  that  are  not  of  any  critical 
importance  to  society.  The  sanction  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
which  bring  to  grief  all  who  violate  them,  are  not  distinguished 
from  the  sanctions  wielded  by  man  to  render  his  commands 
authoritative.  Indeed,  since  nature  is  at  first  regarded  as 
under  the  control  of  supernatural  wills,  there  is  no  recognition 
of  an  essential  distinction  between  the  authority  of  natural 
and  that  of  human  law.  It  is  not  seen  that  one  is  inevitable, 
and  the  other  capable  of  being  changed  as  man  sees  fit. 

The  sanctions  that  society  employs  to  strengthen  or  create 
authority  may  be  roughly  divided  into  social,  religious,  and 
legal.  The  social  sanction  consists  of  the  neglect,  the  ridicule, 
the  abuse,  the  ostracism,  the  indiscriminate  injury  to  person 
and  property  that  society  tends  to  inflict  on  those  who  depart 
from  its  ways.  The  religious  sanction  consists  in  that  disfavor 
which  the  supernatural  powers  are  supposed  to  visit  upon  those 
who  fail  to  conform  to  their  customs.  When  society  through  an 
established  machinery  of  justice  punishes  those  who  violate 
enacted  law,  we  have  the  legal  sanction. 

Of  all  these  the  social  sanction  is,  on  the  whole,  least  a  result 
of  deliberation,  and  the  legal  sanction  most  so.  Indeed,  there 
is  probably  among  men  a  sort  of  instinct  for  conformity  to  cus- 
tom, which  displays  itself  negatively  in  the  scorn  and  hatred 
of  the  innovator.  Such  an  instinct  would  be  closely  allied  to 
the  aesthetic  sense,  which  early  appears  in  a  fondness  for  the 
conventional.  Thus  aesthetic  pleasure  is  largely  the  ease  and 
sense  of  harmony  that  one  feels  in  observing  the  familiar  order 
of  things.  The  instinct  for  the  conventional  is,  of  course, 
a  powerful  agency  to  reenforce  the  natural  effect  upon  atten- 
tion and  imitation  of  the  constant  repetitions  of  custom.  It 
manifests  itself  in  the  social  sanctions,  and  in  that  form  becomes 


Imitation 


347 


an  object  of  conscious  fear  on  the  part  of  any  who  are  tempted 
to  fall  away  from  prevailing  practice. 

The  religious  sanction,  like  the  social  one,  operates  to  produce 
conformity  and  social  solidarity.  We  have  earlier  l  discussed 
the  value  of  religious  belief  as  an  agency  for  social  control. 
The  religious  sanctions  evolve  naturally,  and  unreflectively 
they  become  attached  to  such  conduct  as  makes  for  social 
efficiency.  In  the  struggle  for  existence  the  group  with  whom 
religion  is  a  most  effective  agent  for  cooperation  will,  as  a  rule, 
survive.  Men  realize  the  greater  prosperity  that  goes  with 
certain  types  of  religion,  and  naturally  attribute  it  to  the 
special  favor  of  the  gods  toward  such  as  conform  to  their  will, 
rather  than  to  the  increased  efficiency  that  springs  from  this 
obedience. 

The  legal  sanction  is  superior  to  the  social  and  religious  sanc- 
tions in  possessing  the  advantage  of  statement  in  the  form  of 
positive  law,  together  with  that  of  established  machinery  for 
its  enforcement.  Indeed,  the  addition  of  these  two  factors  con- 
verts social  and  religious  sanctions  into  legal  ones.  Custom 
and  religion  tend  to  evolve  into  legalism.  The  explicitness 
of  positive  law  and  of  the  method  of  its  enforcement  brings 
directly  before  intelligence  the  nature  and  purpose  of  its  sanc- 
tions, and  the  fact  that  they  can  be  wielded  by  the  human  will 
in  the  interest  of  any  social  practice.  The  authoritativeness 
of  custom  and  of  religious  practice  are  not  felt  to  be  a  result 
of  human  intention,  but  rather  of  some  law  superior  to  human 
judgment.  In  them  mankind  simply  adds  his  sanction  to  the 
inevitable.  But  when  legal  sanctions  appear,  authority  is 
traced  to  its  source  in  human  will,  and  judgment  is  evoked 
in  order  that  the  power  that  resides  in  control  of  the  sanctions 
may  be  used  most  advantageously,  either  for  the  social  group 
in  general,  or  at  any  rate  for  its  leaders.  Thus  legalism  means 

1  Compare  §  14. 


Natural 
evolution 
of  the  re- 
ligious 
sanction 


The  legal 
sanction 
more  evi- 
dent than 
the  others. 
It  becomes 
recognized 
as  artificial 


348 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  con- 
scious tyr- 
anny 
through 
the  con- 
trol of 
sanctions 


The   struggle 
for  the  con- 
trol of 
sanctions. 
Appeal  to 
reason 


the  evolution  of  authoritativeness  into  the  stage  of  clearly 
conscious  control. 

This  intelligent  comprehension  of  the  meaning  of  authority 
involves  two  new  attitudes.  In  the  first  place,  men  come  to 
recognize  clearly  the  difference  between  the  inevitable  laws  of 
Nature  or  of  God,  which  they  need  to  know  but  cannot  con- 
trol, and  those  customs  and  laws  that  are  subject  to  human 
will,  and  can,  therefore,  be  manipulated.  In  the  second  place, 
they  recognize  the  remarkable  value  of  control  over  the  sanc- 
tions as  an  agency  for  exploitation.  The  evolution  of  leader- 
ship and  of  privileged  classes  is  in  no  small  measure  facilitated 
by  the  growth  of  sanctions,  and  since  such  individuals  or 
groups  possess  as  a  rule  superior  intelligence,  they  quickly 
learn  the  source  of  their  power  and  come  to  exercise  it  in  the 
interest  of  self  or  of  class.  Thus  intellectual  growth  favors 
cunning,  and  the  rule  of  priest  or  aristocrat  evolves  into  tyr- 
anny. 

This  sort  of  a  condition  contains  within  itself,  however,  the 
seeds  of  its  own  destruction.  For  it  means  such  a  struggle  for 
control,  such  variety  of  motive  among  those  who  control, 
and  such  a  critical  discussion  of  the  justification  of  law,  as 
inevitably  leads  to  a  general  knowledge  on  the  part  of  all  classes, 
the  exploited  as  well  as  those  who  exploit,  of  the  significance 
of  the  edicts  of  human  authority.  Warring  individuals  or 
classes  struggle  for  dominance  in  the  state,  and  with  their 
varying  claims  and  laws  force  upon  the  attention  the  fact  that 
law  depends  upon  human  will,  and  that  it  may  be  wielded  in 
the  interest  not  of  society,  but  rather  of  the  men  who  make  it. 
Moreover,  many  leaders  aim  to  justify  their  rule  by  showing 
that  their  laws  conform  to  the  higher  laws  of  Nature  and  of 
God,  or,  what  is  taken  to  mean  the  same  thing,  the  welfare 
of  their  people.  Thus,  in  endeavoring  to  show  that  with  them 
the  two  types  of  law  conform,  they  emphasize  the  distinction 


Imitation 


349 


between  them.  Many  leaders  earnestly  desire  to  rule  that  they 
may  make  positive  law  in  the  interest  of  general  welfare,  or 
what  they  regard  as  the  will  of  God.  The  attack  upon  the 
tyrant  often  comes  from  members  of  his  own  class,  or  even 
from  those  who  are  favored  by  tyranny.  Thus  the  struggle 
of  contending  forces  for  the  coveted  control  of  the  sanctions 
leads  to  a  mass  of  conflicting  views.  Human  reason  flounders 
among  the  reasons  that  are  offered  to  support  existing  or  pro- 
posed laws,  or  the  rule  of  this  or  that  man  or  group  of  men. 
Each  individual  sees  the  social  situation  partly  from  the  point 
of  view  of  his  antecedents  and  his  culture,  partly  from  that  of 
his  special  interests,  and  partly  from  that  of  a  fairly  general 
survey  of  all  the  conflicting  arguments  for  and  against  the 
established  order.  The  priest  or  the  lawgiver,  even  though 
he  may  be  dealing  with  religious  faith  or  legal  enactment 
according  to  what  he  thinks  is  the  righteousness  of  God  or  the 
principles  of  absolute  justice,  is  apt  to  overemphasize  his  spe- 
cialty. The  one  offers  to  man  a  form  of  worship  that  arrogates 
to  itself  supremacy  over  all  other  interests,  the  other  turns  law 
into  a  mechanism,  not  so  much  for  improving  the  welfare  of 
society  as  for  enhancing  the  majesty  of  law  itself.  Thus  each 
in  all  sincerity  worshiping  his  God  or  his  law  takes  an  attitude 
that  a  critic  may  regard  as  an  hypocritical  mask  to  cloak  the 
service  of  self.  Meanwhile  the  governed  and  exploited  multi- 
tude, by  nature  and  training  submissive,  partly  accept  the 
offered  justification  of  their  government  and  partly  yield 
obedience  to  what  they  regard  as  an  inevitable  exploitation. 

The  goal  of  all  this  interplay  of  opinion  is  the  authority  of  Replace- 
truth.     The  truly  proper  is  contrasted  with  the  customary,      ^n 
and  men  seek  that  which  taste  must  universally  approve,      tomary 
The  truly  sacred  is  contrasted  with  the  traditional  religious 
worship,  or  with  that  of  this  or  that  cult.     The  conception 
of  absolute  principles  of  justice  behind  any  established  code 


350  Principles  of  Education 

appears  to  inspire  the  reformer.  Thus  the  sanctions  of  man's 
will  are  shifted  about  and  fitted  to  that  which  his  judgment 
declares  to  have  the  authority  of  reason  and  experience.  One 
may  wonder  what  need  there  is  of  human  sanctions,  if  they 
are  made  to  enforce  that  which  itself  yields  to  man  his  highest 
welfare.  However,  there  remains  the  need  of  cooperation  and 
of  universal  adherence  to  that  which  makes  for  the  common 
ends.  Since  society  contains  those  who  lack  intelligence,  it 
must  needs  constrain  them  by  man-made  sanctions  to  do  the 
wise.  Since  it  contains  those  who  lack  conscience,  it  is  com- 
pelled to  coerce  them  into  conduct  that  benefits  rather  than 
injures  their  fellows. 

Summary  In  resume,  the  social  mechanism  of  imitation  resolves  itself 

into  the  spread  of  models  in  geometrical  progression,  their 
interference  and  opposition,  and,  finally,  adaptation,  or  the 
resolution  of  struggle.  Thus  the  individual,  in  being  the  center 
of  an  unique  group  of  lines  of  imitation,  becomes  a  variant  in 
education,  just  as  he  is  a  variant  in  heredity  because  of  diverse 
strains  of  ancestry.  A  struggle  of  models  may  be  concluded 
by  the  victory  of  one,  or  by  compromise.  The  process  is  one 
that  conforms  to  the  conditions  of  ideational  readjustment. 
The  principles  of  selection  are  at  first  unconsciously  operative. 
They  take,  from  the  subjective  point  of  view,  the  form  of  hered- 
itary preference,  habit,  and  sensitivity  to  the  new  and  unusual. 
The  latter  factor  may,  when  it  is  keen,  overbear  the  two  former 
ones  in  control  over  attention  and  imitation.  Objectively, 
the  selective  forces  in  imitation  are  custom  and  prestige.  The 
appreciation  of  prestige  involves  keen  sensitivity  and  alertness 
and  considerable  intelligence.  Through  them  prestige  can 
overwhelm  custom.  Since  prestige  involves  intelligence,  its 
causes  are  apt  to  be  noted.  Their  recognition  converts  pres- 
tige into  authority,  and  enhances  its  potency.  Moreover, 
the  consciousness  of  authority  leads  men  to  sanction  it,  or  to 


Imitation  351 

punish  those  who  depart  from  it.  The  sanctions  are  social, 
religious,  and  legal.  The  social  sanctions  are  least  reflective, 
being  largely  a  matter  of  mere  instinct  to  attack  the  uncon- 
ventional. The  legal  sanctions  are  most  reflective,  and  lead 
to  a  recognition  of  the  power  men  have  of  creating  the  author- 
itative by  applying  the  sanctions.  The  utilization  of  this 
power  for  exploitation  or  social  betterment  leads  to  conflict 
and  a  gradual  struggle  of  society  toward  law  which  shall  con- 
form to  the  truth  and  make  for  general  human  welfare.  Thus 
the  final  authority  is  seen  to  rest  in  reason  working  with  the 
evidence  of  practice  as  to  the  methods  of  dealing  with  nature 
and  organizing  society  that  are  most  effective  for  attaining 
the  ends  of  human  life. 

SECTION  39.     Imitation  in  the  history  of  education 

The  evolution  of  the  selective  forces  that  determine  the  con-  Growth  of 
flicts  of  imitation  proceeds  from  heredity  and  habit  to  intensity      Pr°gres- 

.  siveness  i 

of  the  stimulus,  from  custom  to  prestige  and  authority,  and      theseiec- 
from  the  social,  religious,  and  legal  sanctions  to  those  of  natural      models 
law  and  common  welfare  as  evident  to  scientific  judgment.    The 
entire  movement  means  advance  from  conservatism  to  progres- 
siveness  and  rationality.     The  study  of  this  movement  in  the 
actual  history  of  education  reveals  several  factors  that  help  in 
the  interpretation  of  the  process  of  imitation  in  the  typical 
education  of  to-day. 

The  development  of  adaptability  is  everywhere  throughout  Authority  as 
evolution  beset  by  such  conservative  checks  as  are  necessary      thehdisin° 
to  safeguard  the  species  or  the  society.     The  rise  of  intelli-     tegmting 
gence  threatens  society  with  individualism,  but  the  sanctions      ^-o^ingin 
of  authority,  the  tyranny  of  institutional  life,  prevent  anarchy      teliigence 
by  suppressing  originality  and  variation  until  the  race  has  accu- 
mulated adequate  experience  and  acquired  a  critical  sense, 


352 


Principles  of  Education 


Conserva- 
tism of 
early 
education 


Resulting 
social  selec- 
tion of  the 
docile  and 
those  fond 
of  form 


Early  edu- 
cation 
as  largely 
social 
training 


such  as  enables  genuine  self-government.  Early  education  is 
of  necessity  intensely  conservative,  because  any  other  type 
would  weaken  social  solidarity,  and  hence  threaten  social 
efficiency. 

This  conservatism  involves  a  social  selection  of  men  on  the 
basis  of  docility,  on  the  one  hand,  and  fondness  for  form,  on 
the  other.  Docility  means  imitativeness  and  submissiveness. 
It  means  the  capacity  to  learn  from  others,  which  in  turn  in- 
volves such  intellectual  power  as  makes  possible  the  compre- 
hension of  what  they  do  and  think,  and  the  physical  and  mental 
aptitude  to  repeat  their  performances.  It  also  means  receptiv- 
ity, or  the  willingness  to  place  one's  self  in  an  attitude  of  in- 
terested attention  to  others,  and  that  yielding  disposition  which 
interposes  few  obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  imitative  tendency 
set  in  motion  by  such  attention.  The  struggle  to  conquer, 
that  prevails  in  pre-civilized  conditions,  is  replaced  more  and 
more  by  a  struggle  to  conform,  for  society  offers  its  rewards 
to  those  who  excel  in  the  latter  contest. 

Fondness  for  form  means  a  love  of  imitation,  custom,  con- 
vention for  its  own  sake,  or  for  the  sake  of  its  aesthetic  appeal. 
As  has  been  suggested,  it  is  even  possible  that  the  aesthetic 
sense  is  in  part,  at  least,  a  product  of  the  fondness  for  form 
that  early  civilization  finds  so  advantageous.1  However  this 
may  be,  it  is  certain  that  society  is  made  more  conserva- 
tive and  secure  by  the  existence  of  a  devotion  not  merely  to 
the  spirit,  but  also  to  the  letter  of  the  law  and  the  precedent. 

In  addition  to  its  conservatism,  the  conscious  public  edu- 
cation of  early  civilization  is  also,  as  a  rule,  confined  largely  to 
social  training.  This  subject  was  treated  in  an  earlier  section.2 
Here  we  may  reiterate  the  principle  that  society  finds  the  train- 
ing that  makes  for  social  solidarity  and  social  efficiency  so 
valuable  both  for  the  community  and  the  individual  that  all 

1  Compare  §  38.  2  Compare  §  14. 


Imitation 


353 


forces 
making  for 
progress : 
(i)  imita- 
tiveness ; 


energy  is  bent  toward  making  it  effective.  Hence,  early  edu- 
cation begins  with  a  curriculum  of  social  customs,  ethics,  and 
religion,  which  expands  into  literature  and  art,  theology  and 
philosophy,  and  finally  into  science  for  its  own  sake  rather  than 
for  its  practical  uses. 

The  forces  that  lead  away  from  mere  conservatism  and  internal 
devotion  to  social  convention  may  be  classified  into  two  groups: 
the  internal  and  the  external.  Within  any  society,  no  matter 
how  conservative  it  may  be,  there  are  agencies  making  for 
an  ultimate  break  with  tradition  and  custom.  First  of  all, 
the  very  quality  of  docility  that  helps  so  effectively  the 
growth  of  uniformity  and  conservatism,  when  the  conditions 
are  such  that  all  variant  standards  are  suppressed,  becomes 
under  different  circumstances  a  basis  for  swift  change  and, 
indeed,  revolution.  Receptivity,  imitativeness,  renders  one 
not  only  susceptible  to  customary  influences,  but  also  to  any 
new  suggestions  that  may  appear.  Thus  originality  is  itself, 
as  we  have  seen,  often  a  product  of  the  imitation  that  takes 
in  and  reproduces  a  number  of  ideas  or  forms  of  action,  and 
from  these  develops  new  plans  and  methods.  In  placing  a 
selection  value  upon  docility  that  it  may  protect  itself  against 
revolution,  society  is  only  preparing  the  way  for  more  rapid 
modification,  when  once  the  force  of  those  sanctions  that  make 
for  uniformity  grows  less.  When  models  are  many  and  various, 
an  imitating  society  is  a  progressive  one.  The  achievements 
of  the  Japanese  are  a  remarkable  illustration  of  this  fact. 

Again,  no  society  is  able  to  preserve  itself  in  exactly  that  posi-  (*)  the 
tion  for  which  the  customs  fostered  by  conservatism  are  suited,      growth 
Conservatism,  like  heredity  and  habit,  prevents  an  adaptation 
from  being  hastily  modified  or  eliminated.     But  the  habits  or 
adaptations  of  society,  like  those  of  the  individual,  are  illus- 
trations of  that  principle  of  the  inertia  of  growth  which  has 
been  earlier  discussed.     The  progress  of  specialized  growth 


2A 


354  Principles  of  Education 

that  creates  the  custom  does  not  cease  when  it  is  formed. 
The  forces  that  give  rise  to  aristocracies  turn  them  into  oligar- 
chies. Religion  ceases  to  content  itself  with  that  strength 
which  enables  it  to  preserve  order  and  to  develop  humanity. 
It  endeavors  to  terrorize  in  the  interest  of  a  spiritual  life  at 
variance  with  human  conditions.  Law  grows  into  a  strength 
that  enables  it  to  maintain  justice,  and  from  thence  into 
further  strength  that  involves  tyranny.  Thus  internal  forces 
that  produce  adaptation  continue  to  operate  after  adjust- 
ment is  gained  and  ultimately  result  in  lack  of  adaptation. 
Society  outgrows  its  institutions,  and  the  very  endeavor  to 
maintain  them  only  renders  the  ultimate  disparity  between  the 
function  and  the  mechanisms,  the  need  and  the  method  of 
meeting  it,  more  apparent.  In  such  an  unstable  condition, 
slight  influences  often  suffice  to  render  men  conscious  of  the 
maladjustment,  and  to  rouse  an  active  demand  for  revolution. 
External  Thus  it  is  that  internal  forces  operative  in  conservative 

uTuaTiy  the  civilizations  pave  the  way  for  change  by  creating  character- 
occasion  istics  and  conditions  that  make  such  transformation  all  the 
vance  more  rapid  and  eager  when  once  alien  ideas  and  customs 
find  an  entrance.  It  is  these  external  agencies,  however, 
that  historically  have  afforded  the  occasion  for  revolution 
and  progress.  Early  civilization  seeks  seclusion.  It  hides 
itself  behind  deserts,  and  mountains,  and  bodies  of  water,  and, 
when  these  fail,  it  may  try  to  construct  artificial  barriers, 
like  the  Chinese  wall.  In  such  security  the  sanctions  of 
authority  get  an  opportunity  to  produce  an  extraordinary 
amount  of  homogeneity.  When,  however,  the  course  of  his- 
tory brings  foreigners  across  the  seas  or  over  the  mountains 
and  waste  places,  when  the  barriers  are  broken  down,  then 
these  sanctions  are  valueless  unless  the  system  they  maintain 
proves  effective  in  expelling  the  invader. 

But  even  wandering  nations  do  not  at  first  come  into  suffi- 


Imitation 


355 


ciently  close  contact  with  those  whom  they  meet  to  render 
imitation  on  a  large  scale  operative.  It  is  not  mere  physical 
proximity,  but  rather  the  form  of  social  intercourse  which 
prevails  that  determines  the  extent  to  which  peoples  absorb 
ideas  and  customs  from  each  other.  Among  the  most  im- 
portant of  these  types  of  social  intercourse  are  (i)  war,  con- 
quest, and  government ;  (2)  commerce  and  colonization ; 
(3)  travel ;  and  (4)  study  of  foreign  culture. 

The  wars  of  early  mankind  are  usually  wars  of  extermina- 
tion. Yet,  in  spite  of  this,  they  bring  about  a  keen  attention 
to  such  devices  as  are  employed  by  adversaries  in  combat. 
As  Tarde  points  out,  such  methods  and  instrumentalities  of 
war  as  are  effective  are  speedily  copied  whenever  this  is  pos- 
sible. War  converts  indifferent  observation  into  an  attentive 
interest  in  at  least  one  important  aspect  of  the  life  and  behavior 
of  foreign  peoples.  Such  interest  and  attention  is  broadened 
when  wars  of  extermination  are  replaced  by  wars  of  conquest. 
To  enslave  a  people,  or  to  make  them  pay  tribute,  requires 
far  more  knowledge  of  their  customs  and  characteristics  than 
simply  to  annihilate  them.  Again,  when  these  forms  of 
exploitation  are  replaced  by  more  enlightened  government 
under  a  power  that  endeavors  to  establish  an  universal  peace 
like  the  Pax  Romana,  and  to  insure  the  good  will  of  its  prov- 
inces by  granting  them  a  share  in  the  government,  indeed,  by 
making  their  people  citizens,  recruiting  armies  from  them, 
opening  to  them  offices,  and  granting  them  self-government,  — 
when  these  measures  appear,  then  the  nations  involved  are 
brought  into  intimate  intercourse  and  exchange  points  of  view 
and  the  practices  of  peace  as  well  as  those  of  war. 

In  a  general  way,  commerce  and  the  colonization  by  which 
it  is  extended  and  fostered  constitute  a  step  in  advance  of 
war  and  conquest  so  far  as  educational  influence  is  concerned. 
For  here  there  is  a  study  of  supply  and  demand,  and  the  tastes 


Types  of  ex- 
ternal con- 
tact illus- 
trating 
the  growth 
of  interest 
in  the 
foreign 


(i)  War, 
conquest, 
and  gov- 
ernment; 


(2)    com- 
merce and 
coloniza- 
tion; 


356 


Principles  of  Education 


(4)  study  of 
foreign 
culture 
by  the 
school 


and  resources  upon  which  they  are  based.  The  advantages 
that  spring  from  trade  lead  to  a  more  extensive  exploration 
of  the  world,  and  a  more  intensive  study  of  the  desires  and 
capacities  of  different  races  of  men  than  do  those  of  conquest. 
In  general,  the  development  of  trade  is  the  most  important 
stimulus  to  world  conquest  and  government. 

If  we  exclude  from  travel  the  search  for  the  necessities  of 
life,  or  for  people  to  conquer  or  plunder,  or  with  whom  to 
trade,  it  is  unknown  to  primitive  men,  and  even  to  races  well 
advanced  in  civilization.  It  means  an  enormous  advance 
in  attentive  survey  of  the  inner  and  outer  life  of  foreign  peoples. 
For  the  genuine  traveler  studies  others  not  merely  to  barter 
with  them,  but  because  their  differences  are  in  themselves 
found  curious  and  interesting.  From  Herodotus,  unique  in 
his  generation,  to  the  spirit  of  pilgrimage  that  survived 
the  Crusades  means  a  long  step  in  the  growth  of  interest  in 
strange  people  and  places.  And  an  equally  extensive  advance 
is  involved  in  attaining  to  the  love  of  "globe-trotting"  current 
in  the  modern  world. 

Finally,  men  come  to  realize  that  foreign  people  are  interest- 
ing, not  merely  because  their  ways  are  strange  and  curious, 
but  because  these  may  be  better  than  those  in  vogue  at  home. 
The  earliest  important  example  of  a  conscious  recognition 
of  such  superiority,  and  a  deliberate  adoption  of  another 
culture,  is  to  be  found  in  the  Roman  imitation  of  the  Greeks. 
"Captive  Greece  took  captive  her  rude  conqueror"  because  of 
the  manifest  superiority  of  her  art,  her  literature,  and  her 
philosophy.  So,  too,  the  Renaissance  was  captivated  by  the 
culture  of  antiquity  and  sought,  not  merely  in  another  race, 
but  in  a  vanished  civilization,  the  customs  and  ideals  that  it 
would  follow.  Such  imitation  was  merely  that  of  the  culti- 
vated life  of  an  aristocracy.  The  cultivated  class  is  invariably 
the  first  to  rise  to  the  cosmopolitan  attitude  of  borrowing  from 


Imitation  357 

others  whatever  seems  best  and,  indeed,  of  looking  elsewhere 
for  the  best.  However,  long  before  mankind  set  itself  con- 
sciously to  the  task  of  finding  additions  to  its  philosophy,  or 
science,  or  literature,  or  art,  or  institutional  life  among  foreign 
peoples,  a  vague  sense  of  the  resourcefulness  of  the  stranger 
became  current.  It  is  a  common  tradition  that  traces  new 
developments  in  thought  or  institutional  life  to  a  wise  man  who 
has  sojourned  in  a  distant  land,  —  a  Lycurgus  or  a  Pythagoras. 
The  attitude  back  of  such  ideas  ascribes  to  other  nations  strange 
arts,  magic,  the  power  to  achieve  those  desirable  things  that 
have  so  far  baffled  the  abilities  of  the  race. 

The  spirit  of  this  superstition  is  rationalized  in  modern  life  The  culture 
and  education,  when  all  study  and  research  involves  material 
drawn  from  all  people  who  are  judged  to  have  achieved  stand-      study  of 
ard  results  in  the  given  field,  and  when  no  important  enterprise 
is  undertaken  without  a  careful  survey  of  the  most  successful 
methods,  in  so  far  as  these  are  available  for  inspection.     Thus 
each  new  departure  is  a  focal  point  for  lines  of  imitation  often 
world-wide  in  origin.     Such  a  focalization  of  divergent  material 
is  the  first  step  in  the  method  of  the  school  or  the  study  that 
aims  to  cultivate  the  reason.     Applications  of  this  concep- 
tion are  found  in  the  methods  of  development  and  of  discussion 
in  teaching,  in  the  formal  step  of  comparison,  and  in  the 
reference  work  and  comparative  methods  used  in  all  subjects. 
The  work  of  the  modern  school  seems,  from  the  standpoint  Habit- 
of  imitation,  to  be  divided  into  two  factors.     The  one  consists 
of  standardized  material  capable  of  being  applied  somewhat     tionaiizing 
mechanically  in  the  prevailing  environment.     Such  material      schooi  ° 
is  presented  without  subjecting  the  pupil  to  variant  models.      wor!c 
The  teaching    environment    becomes   in  reference   to  it  the 
uniform  environment  of  mere  recapitulatory  education.     The 
other  factor  consists  of  the  ideas,  the  principles,  the  habits 
that  need  constant  adaptation  to  new  conditions.     Such  mate- 


358  Principles  of  Education 

rial  should  be  presented  with  the  widest  diversity  of  point  of 
view  and  practice,  that  the  way  may  be  opened  for  genuine 
opposition  and  adaptation. 

The  history  of  education,  then,  reveals  a  transition  from 
isolated,  conservative  civilizations,  where  all  models  are  reduced 
as  far  as  possible  to  uniformity,  to  civilizations  that  encourage 
contact  with  others,  and  a  persistent  attempt  to  search  far 
and  wide  for  the  best  models  in  thought  and  action.  In  the 
conservative  stage  the  forces  of  selection  favor  the  develop- 
ment of  imitativeness  and  receptivity.  Hence  it  happens 
that  when  such  a  people  has  so  far  outgrown  its  institutions 
that  change  becomes  inevitable,  or  when  the  exigencies  of  war 
force  a  contact  with  foreign  races,  it  has  evolved  a  character 
that  enables  it  to  absorb  quickly  from  others  whatever  may 
there  be  found.  The  intercourse  of  peoples  develops  through 
the  stages  of  war,  conquest,  and  government ;  commerce  and 
colonization ;  travel ;  and  study  of  foreign  culture.  The 
last  two  have  come  to  be  definitely  recognized  as  essentially 
educative.  The  modern  progressive  school  aims,  in  so  far 
as  it  transmits  such  standardized  material  as  can  be  applied 
without  thought,  to  present  only  uniform  models,  but,  in  so  far 
as  it  aims  at  readjustment  and  power  of  adaptation,  it  strives 
to  make  of  itself  a  meeting  place  for  widely  divergent  lines  of 
imitation. 


CHAPTER  XII 

LANGUAGE 

SECTION  40.    Oral  language  and  the  development  of  thought 

OF  all  the  results  of  imitation,  articulate  language  is  that  interdepend- 
which  is  most  closely  identified  with  the  genesis  and  the  func-      "^  'fand 
tioning  of  reason.     So  closely  allied  are  the  rational  and  the      language 
linguistic  forms  that  the  Greeks  employed  one  term,  logos, 
for  both  word  and  reason,  and  Max  Miiller  places  on  the  title 
page  of  his  book  on  the  Science  of  Thought  the  expression 
"No  reason  without  language,  no  language  without  reason." 

The  inseparability  of  reason  and  language  that  is  here  as-  its  basis  in 
serted  is  based  on  the  relation  between  the  word  and  the  con-      ciatkmof 
cept.     We  have  already  seen  that  the  concept  is  fundamental  in      word  and 
reasoning,  because  through  it  alone  are  we  able  deliberately 
to  adapt  old  measures  to  new  uses.1    The  concept  is  experience 
in  that  form  which  is  most  usable  in  the  analysis,  the  diagnosis 
of  novel  situations.     That  the  word  is  a  most  important  aux- 
iliary in  enabling  us  to  attain  and  to  use  the  general  idea 
can  scarcely  be  denied.     The  Nominalism  that  would  assert 
that  the  concept  is  "speech  and  nothing  more"  has  passed 
away,  yet  psychologists  have  agreed  in  a  newer  Nominalism, 
to  which  Locke  may  be  said  to  have  led  the  way.     According 
to  this,  although  it  is  admitted  with  the  Conceptualist  that 
the  general  idea  does  exist  in  the  mind  in  some  sense,  at  any 
rate,  apart  from  the  particulars  in  which  it  inheres,  neverthe- 

1  Compare  §  30. 
359 


36° 


Principles  of  Education 


Three  ways 
in  which 
language 
assists 
thinking 


(i)  Language 
in  its 
higher 
forms  as 
compelling 
reasoning 


Meanings 
conveyed 
by  expres- 


less,  without  the  aid  of  words  the  process  of  abstraction  would 
be  practically  impossible. 

If  we  were  to  endeavor  to  formulate  the  ways  in  which  lan- 
guage fosters  the  development  of  conscious  learning,  we  might 
distinguish  the  following  :  (i)  language  in  the  form  of  articu- 
late speech  compels  constant  reasoning,  by  forcing  analysis 
of  new  situations  into  familiar  concepts  in  order  that  they  may 
be  communicated ;  (2)  the  word  increases  enormously  the 
power  of  the  mind  to  remember,  and  hence  to  deal  effectively 
with  the  concept ;  (3)  language  brings  social  consciousness  and 
social  heredity  to  bear  upon  the  mind  of  the  individual. 

(i)  The  need  for  expression  is  one  of  the  most  fundamental 
in  human  life.  But  one  does  not  go  very  far  in  communica- 
tion before  he  encounters  the  necessity  of  reasoning  in  order 
to  make  clear  to  others  what  he  wishes  to  express.  The  tran- 
sition from  the  expressive  cries  of  the  brute  or  the  babe  to  the 
articulate  speech  of  the  child  means,  from  the  mental  point  of 
view,  the  passage  from  instinct  and  simple  association  to  genu- 
ine reasoning.  Expressive  cries  indicate  primarily  only  feel- 
ings and  desires.  Indirectly  they  may  communicate  percep- 
tions and  ideas.  If  a  peculiar  emotion  can  arise  only  in  a 
certain  sort  of  a  situation,  then  the  cry  that  expresses  the 
emotion  carries  the  idea  of  the  associated  circumstances. 
Such  a  notion  must  of  necessity  be  vague  until  it  is  cleared 
up  by  direct  observation  of  these  circumstances  on  the  part 
of  the  individuals  who  hear  the  cry.  The  expression  functions 
in  arousing  feelings.  These  in  turn  provoke  vigorous  responses 
useful  to  one  or  both  of  the  communicating  animals  or  to 
the  species.  The  specific  character  of  these  responses  is  de- 
termined largely  by  data  revealed  by  further  observations  on 
the  part  of  the  individual  who  makes  the  movements. 

Articulate,  or  jointed,  speech,  on  the  contrary,  appeals  pri- 
marily to  cognition.  It  consists  of  words,  each  of  which 


Language  361 

without  exception  indicates  a  more  or  less  generalized  group  Meanings 
of  elements  in  experience,  i.e.,  a  concept.  Communication  is  ^"artica 
effected  by  analyzing  a  situation  into  such  general  elements  late  speech 
as  can  be  indicated  by  words.  These  words  are  then  spoken, 
and  the  ideas  that  they  suggest  are  in  turn  synthesized  by  the 
hearer,  who  thus  arrives  at  a  representation  of  the  original 
concrete  experience  of  the  speaker.  Feeling  and  action  follow 
the  cognitive  reproduction  of  the  experience.  Thus  the  men- 
tal process  in  attending  to  articulate  speech  reverses  that  pro- 
voked by  the  expressive  cry.  The  latter  hurries  immediately  to 
the  goal  of  communication,  which  is  that  of  stirring  up  vigorous 
activity.  It  leaves  to  the  actor  the  problem  of  determin- 
ing by  his  own  observations  and  inferences  the  detailed  char- 
acter of  this  activity.  It  calls  for  help,  but  trusts  to  the  res- 
cuer to  discover  what  help  means  and  how  it  may  best  be  given. 
On  the  other  hand,  articulate  speech  proceeds  more  deliberately 
to  create  a  cognitive  state  so  clear  and  detailed  that  it  enables 
the  hearer  without  so  much  additional  investigation  to  get 
the  desired  feelings  and  initiate  the  appropriate  responses. 

It  is  evident  that  the  expressive  cry  is  limited  to  the  commu-  Genesis  of 
nication  of  a  few  simple  wants.     It  cannot  transmit  these  with      articulate 

speech  in 

any  delicacy  of  distinction.  For  this  it  is  compelled  to  rely  the  child 
on  secondary  observations  and  inferences  from  accessory  cir- 
cumstances. The  expressive  cry  leaves  communication  largely 
dependent  on  the  enterprise  and  intelligence  of  the  hearer.  It 
is  incapable  of  expressing  the  inner  life  with  any  detail.  The 
development  of  articulate  speech  means  the  growth  of  a 
vocabulary  that  translates  all  that  the  expressive  cry  leaves 
to  gesture,  to  observation,  and  to  inference  into  the  symbol- 
ism of  words.  Beginning  with  a  few  words,  which  are  some- 
times called  "sentence  words,"  and  which  seem  more  nearly 
akin  to  interjections  or  verbs  in  the  imperative  than  to  any  other 
part  of  speech,  the  vocabulary  of  the  child  or  of  the  race  ex- 


362  Principles  of  Education 

pands,  because  of  the  failure  of  these  to  express  clearly  new 
situations  to  which  they  are  applied.  A  new  demand  upon  its 
powers  of  expression  the  child  meets  by  an  old  word  that  seems 
most  nearly  to  fit.  The  failure  of  this  word  to  communicate 
successfully  leads  to  the  invention  of  modifying  words  to  adapt 
it  to  this  special  case.  Hence  we  have  the  rudiments  of  the 
sentence.  Instead  of  seeking  a  new  word  for  each  new  con- 
crete situation,  the  child  finds  a  word  to  express  that  abstract 
phase  of  it  which  is  different  from  cases  where  a  mastered  word 
applies.  Thus  the  endeavor  to  communicate  leads  immedi- 
ately to  imperfect  generalizations,  and  to  correction  of  these 
through  a  process  of  analysis  and  abstraction.  In  order  to 
express  these  new  distinctions,  new  words  appear.  Ultimately, 
the  instinctive  expressions  and  those  absorbed  unreflectively 
by  imitation  come  to  be  supplemented  by  words  for  which  the 
child  sets  himself  consciously  in  search. 

It  is  plain  that  with  the  development  of  articulate  speech 
the  child  comes  more  and  more  to  take  rational  attitudes.  He 
comes  to  realize  the  need  of  understanding  others  or  of  being 
himself  understood  by  them.  When  he  wishes  to  communicate 
something  new,  he  is  aware  of  the  necessity  of  reducing  it 
to  factors  for  which  he  possesses  symbols.  These  symbols 
must  be  standard  ones ;  i.e.,  such  as  are  commonly  used  to 
express  the  factors  to  which  he  applies  them.  When  put 
together,  they  must  create  a  synthesis  of  thought  which  others 
will  be  capable  of  grasping.  The  demand  for  symbols  and  de- 
vices of  phraseology  is  a  summons  upon  his  resources.  The 
demand  for  intelligibility  in  wording  and  in  sentence  con- 
struction is  a  stimulus  to  judgment.  The  language  situation  is 
a  continual  challenge  upon  both  these  powers,  and  it  is  under 
its  influence  that  purposive  thinking  is,  for  the  most  part, 
brought  into  existence  and  developed  to  a  high  degree  of 
excellence. 


Language  363 

As  the  child's  power  of  expression  increases,  his  sense  of  Growth  of 
that  which  can  be  accomplished  through  it  becomes  more      2!2^ 

r  interest  in 

pervading.  The  natural  tendency  is  strengthened  into  an  communi- 
absorbing  habit,  behind  which  there  lies  not  only  the  social 
instincts,  the  desire  for  sympathy  and  for  approbation,  the 
love  of  social  intercourse  and  of  social  service,  but  also  the 
clear  awareness  of  the  enormous  value  of  social  agencies  as  a 
means  of  furthering  almost  any  individual  purpose.  Lan- 
guage rapidly  develops  into  one  of  the  leading,  if  not,  indeed, 
the  leading  activity  of  life.  Power  of  getting  on  in  a  social 
environment  is  very  closely  dependent  upon  power  of  expres- 
sion through  which  one  influences  others,  through  which  one 
gets  into  contact  with  society  and  makes  it  work  his  will. 

So  strong  is  this  interest  in  language  that  men  come  to  talk  for 
the  sake  of  talking.  Articulate  speech,  not  limited  to  the  ex- 
pression of  a  few  vital  situations  where  the  need  for  action  is 
immediate  and  imperative,  becomes  more  and  more  concerned 
with  the  communication  of  ideas  to  be  used  in  future  delibera- 
tion, or  to  enhance  the  interest  of  life  in  a  highly  social  com- 
munity. The  worlds  of  imagination,  of  reflection,  of  make- 
believe  find  new  interest  because  supported  by  the  social  in- 
terplay that  language  makes  possible.  Men  notice  more  the 
descriptive  characteristics  of  things.  A  very  large  part  of  the 
qualities  that  we  observe  in  our  surroundings  have  very  little 
if  any  significance  except  that  through  noting  them  descrip- 
tion can  be  made  more  effective.  Through  language  we  are 
elevated  into  that  social,  psychical  world,  into  that  world  of 
mind  behind  the  phenomena  of  sense,  which  straightway  be- 
comes the  vitally  interesting,  the  genuinely  real  world,  a  world 
upon  which  all  the  activities  are  more  and  more  brought  to 
bear. 

(2)  The  use  of  language  is  not  only  the  occasion  for  reason- 
ing, but  it  also  does  much  to  sustain  that  process  by  enabling 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  Language 
as  an  aid 
to  memory, 
(a)  in 
grasping 
and  retain- 
ing sensory 
distinc- 
tions ; 


(b)  in  form- 
ing and 
retaining 
concepts 


us  to  seize  by  the  attention  and  to  hold  in  memory  the  con- 
cepts which  it  employs.  In  the  mere  matter  of  discriminat- 
ing qualities  of  sense  the  name  is  a  valuable  help.  Professor 
Judd  *  mentions  an  interesting  experiment,  testing  the  power 
to  discriminate  different  shades  of  gray.  Ordinarily,  only 
about  five  such  shades  can  be  distinguished  with  certainty. 
If,  however,  one  attaches  a  name  or  a  number  to  intervening 
shades,  it  is  found  that  with  a  little  practice  the  number  of 
distinctions  that  can  readily  be  identified  is  much  increased. 
The  word  constitutes  a  reaction  that  cannot  be  correctly  per- 
formed without  holding  in  memory  the  quality  to  which  it 
applies.  Thus  a  motive  is  furnished  for  distinguishing  and 
remembering  this  quality.  Moreover,  distinctions  are  better 
remembered  by  being  anchored,  as  it  were,  to  a  concrete  and 
clearly  apprehended  image,  —  that  of  the  word.  This  asso- 
ciation tends  to  float  an  otherwise  vaguely  conceived  element 
away  from  the  similars  that  are  confused  with  it.  The  word 
grips  fast  the  distinction,  and  enables  it  to  be  held  before  at- 
tention until  it  produces  a  sufficiently  intense  impression  to 
be  clearly  retained,  and  until  it  is  associated  well  enough  with 
its  name  to  call  that  up  when  it  appears  and,  indeed,  to  be 
itself  recalled  into  consciousness  by  the  mention  of  the  name. 
Thus  the  word  helps  the  memory,  first,  in  the  task  of  distin- 
guishing and  identifying  the  object  to  which  it  applies,  and 
second,  in  that  of  calling  to  mind  the  image  or  concept  of  this 
object. 

When  we  come  to  deal  with  concepts  that  are  non-sensuous 
and  represent  a  great  number  of  relations,  we  find  that  the 
word  becomes  practically  indispensable.  In  the  midst  of  an 
ever  shifting  group  of  qualities,  the  word  remains  the  sole 
fairly  constant  sensuous  element.  To  take,  as  an  example,  the 
concept  of  a  person;  if  one  thinks  of  the  extent  of  the  changes 

1  Psychology,  p.  261. 


Language  365 

that  take  place  while  an  individual  grows  from  infancy  to 
maturity,  one  realizes  how  dependent  upon  the  name  is  the 
idea  of  the  continuity  involved.  The  tenuous  thread  of  that 
set  of  relationships  which  we  call  the  personality  could  scarcely 
be  held  in  mind  in  the  midst  of  all  the  fluctuations  of  appear- 
ance, of  powers,  and  even  of  qualities  of  character,  were  it  not 
for  the  help  of  the  image  of  that  word  that  has  throughout 
the  years  remained  the  one  sensuous  thing  invariably  at- 
tached to  it.  Our  other  reactions  toward  the  individual  have 
all  changed  superficially  or  profoundly.  And  if  the  name 
helps  in  distinguishing  and  in  holding  in  memory  the  notion 
of  a  person,  much  more  important  is  it  in  seizing  firmly  class 
concepts,  such  as  that  of  horse,  or  such  abstractions  as  equality 
or  nothing,  where  the  sensuous  images  seem  to  have  lost  all 
value  as  a  means  of  identification.  It  is  the  importance  of 
this  function  of  the  word  that  led  the  Nominalist  to  maintain 
that  its  image  is  the  only  mental  representative  of  the  abstract 
universal  element  in  experience.  And,  indeed,  there  would 
be  no  difficulty  in  establishing  the  existence  of  imageless 
thought,1  were  it  not  for  the  almost  or  quite  constant  presence 
in  such  processes  of  the  reverberating  image  of  the  words  by 
which  the  distinctions  involved  are  wont  to  be  seized  by  the 
mind. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  mistake  could  be  more  fundamental  The  word 
than  that  of  confusing  the  word  with  the  concept.     The  word 


is  simply  a  tool  by  which  the  memory  is  able  to  hold  its  con-      dispensable 
cepts  firmly  enough  to  define  them,  and  to  deal  with  them      thought 
as   distinct   elements.     This   function  is  certainly  important 
enough.     If  the  concepts  were  not  thus  preserved  by  memory, 
it  would  be  impossible  to  utilize  them  in  ideational  readjust- 
ment.    The  resources  of  the  mind  would  be  limited  to  naive 

1  Compare  Woodworth,  "The  Consciousness  of  Relation,"  Essays  Philosophical 
and  Psychological  in  honor  of  William  James. 


366  Principles  of  Education 

perception  and  imagination.  The  evolution  of  fertility  of 
thought  would  be  checked  before  it  had  attained  that  degree 
which  makes  possible  reflectiveness.  Hence,  judgment  could 
not  arise  to  replace  mere  habit  or  feeling  as  a  basis  for  decision. 
For  judgment  rests,  as  we  have  seen,  on  alternative  courses 
clearly  distinguished,  on  the  sense  that  one  can  determine  which 
is  most  reliable  and  which  he  will  choose  to  follow,  and,  finally, 
on  the  presence  of  clearly  conceived  criteria.  In  short,  idea- 
tional  readjustment  cannot  advance  beyond  its  rudimentary 
stages  except  by  a  system  of  concepts  which  can  be  held  in 
memory  only  by  the  aid  of  language. 

(3)  In  a  sense,  this  function  of  assisting  memory  is  the  most 
fundamental  of  all  the  uses  of  language  in  connection  with 
the  development  of  thought.  It  is  the  gain  in  resources  which 
comes  from  the  strengthening  of  memory  that  enables  the  lan- 
guage interest  to  grow  into  such  an  absorbing  one,  and  hence 
to  make  such  an  appeal  to  the  reason.  Moreover,  the  acquisi- 
tion of  these  resources  constitutes  the  act  of  taking  possession 
of  one's  social  heredity.  The  distinctions  that  we  must  seize 
in  order  to  communicate  are  those  which  are  common  to 
society,  and  to  learn  them  means  to  bring  the  mind  into  con- 
formity with  the  experience  of  the  race. 

(3)  Language  Here  we  come  to  the  third  and  most  evident  of  the  uses  of 
portal  to  language.  Speech  breaks  down  the  barriers  between  mind 
the  social  anc}  mmci  anc|  extends  the  consciousness  of  the  individual 

mind  and  '  . 

social  to  cover,  in  some  sort  at  least,  the  social  consciousness  of  his 
time.  Moreover,  since  this  social  mind  is  constructed  out 
of  the  past,  one's  thoughts  become  part  of  that  stream  of  ex- 
perience which  constitutes  social  heredity.  He  receives  his 
spiritual  inheritance  through  his  mother  tongue. 

All  this  is  commonplace,  and  it  is  unnecessary  to  enlarge 
upon  the  enormous  modification  and  gain  that  falls  to  the 
share  of  the  individual  in  this  process.  It  should  be  noted, 


Language 


367 


however,  that  language  represents  the  climax  of  imitation. 
Whatever  was  said  of  the  latter  process  applies,  therefore,  to 
its  specialized  form.  If  imitation  gives  community  action, 
feeling,  and  thought,  language  especially  fosters  cooperation 
and  common  consciousness.  When  we  trace  the  consciousness 
of  the  social  elements  and  of  the  social  norms  to  imitation,1 
we  should  remember  that  without  taking  the  form  of  language 
it  could  not  lead  to  this  result.  Moreover,  like  imitation, 
language  cannot  be  regarded  as  directly  increasing  the  re- 
sources of  the  individual.  What  it  does  is  to  guide  thought. 
It  is  a  selective  agency.  In  the  process  of  developing  the  pow- 
ers and  accumulating  valuable  ideas,  it  is  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance that  experimentation  should  be  cut  short.  This  is 
what  imitation  does.  It  furnishes  as  a  rule  only  tested  and 
approved  models.  The  sanctions  of  imitation  bring  their  aid 
to  the  elimination  of  all  experiments,  whether  in  thought  or 
action,  that  do  not  copy  these  desirable  methods.  Instead 
of  floundering  and,  perhaps,  sinking  in  a  bog  of  blind  trial  and 
error,  the  body  is  led  to  effective  control  and  the  mind  to 
accurate  thought  by  following  the  selected  path  of  its  prede- 
cessors. 

Indirectly,  this  course  results  in  an  enormous  gain  of  re- 
sources. Although  words  add  nothing  to  the  elements  of  our 
experience,  they  facilitate  to  such  a  degree  its  retention, 
analysis,  and  organization  that  we  are  enabled  to  amass  a 
mental  capital  which  transforms  us  into  a  new  type  of  being. 
Language  offers  a  path  by  which  the  individual  is  directed 
swiftly  toward  insights  that  the  race  has  reached  only  after 
an  incredible  amount  of  wandering  and  toil.  It  is  not  merely 
that  we  are  led  through  language  to  dwell  upon  especially 
available  experience  and  to  let  the  rest  go.  This  selected 
experience  has  the  additional  qualities  of  being  fundamental 

1  Compare  §  37. 


Language 
the  highest 
phase  of 
imitation 
and,  in 
conse- 
quence, a 
selective 
agency 


Resulting 
gain  in  re- 
sources 


368  Principles  of  Education 

and  conceptual.  Hence  it  can  be  utilized  in  the  greatest  va- 
riety of  new  combinations,  and  it  covers  those  relations  by 
which  experience  is  held  in  great  systems.  The  formation  of 
new  systems  and  the  tenacity  of  the  memory  for  the  system- 
atic involve  positive  and  extraordinary  gain  in  mental  con- 
tent. For  example,  it  is  through  language  that  we  are  enabled 
to  construct  the  ideas  of  self  and  of  others.  In  connection 
with  the  concept  of  self  we  build  up  a  past.  The  concept  of 
other  selves  extends  this  point  into  the  realm  of  history.  Thus 
the  world  of  experience,  past  and  future,  is  built  up  out  of  the 
simple  experience  of  an  individual  life.  It  is  differentiated 
into  the  world  of  personalities,  that  most  interesting  and  ab- 
sorbing of  all  the  interests  of  men. 

In  resume,  we  may  note  that  language  aids  in  the  develop- 
ment of  thought  by  forcing  us  to  reason,  by  enabling  us  to 
seize  and  to  retain  in  memory  concepts  and  systems  of  thought, 
and  by  introducing  us  through  its  selective  influence  into  our 
social  heredity.  The  need  of  communication  leads  us  to  general- 
ize. To  render  expression  accurate,  we  are  forced  to  analyze 
and  to  abstract  the  factors  in  experience.  The  elements 
thus  revealed  are  held  in  memory  by  the  assistance  of  the  word. 
Through  these  mental  advances  we  are  led  into  that  world  of 
mind  which  lies  behind  the  social  environment,  constituting 
its  essence.  This  discovery  enhances  the  instinctive  interest 
in  communication,  and  thus  intensifies  to  an  extraordinary 
degree  the  activity  of  reason  and  social  interplay. 

SECTION  41.    Social  memory  and  written  language 

Oral  language  strengthens  the  memory  of  the  individual, 
not  only  by  fixing  in  mind  the  concepts  which  the  different 
words  or  idioms  express,  but  also  by  reenforcing  the  memory 
of  the  individual  for  complex  situations,  events,  laws,  prin- 


Language 


369 


ciples,  or  practices  through  what  may  be  called  the  memory  of 
society.  Where  the  power  of  one  to  recall  the  past  falters  or 
fails,  that  of  another  may  be  stronger.  The  corrected  mem- 
ory of  each  tends  toward  that  maximum  established  by  the 
memory  of  the  best  endowed  in  respect  to  this  faculty.  In- 
deed, this  collective  memory  is  fundamental  in  fixing  the 
meanings  of  words,  and  so  in  the  process  of  holding  in  mem- 
ory meanings  through  their  agency.  If  one  is  to  be  under- 
stood, he  must  always  attach  the  same  meaning  to  a  word. 
Society  is  forever  correcting  our  forgetfulness  in  regard  to 
concepts  by  compelling  us  to  use  words  in  an  uniform  way. 

At  first  the  social  support  of  the  memory  of  the  individual 
is  not  consciously  recognized.  As  the  material  held  in  col- 
lective memory  increases,  however,  the  use  of  its  resources 
becomes  more  reflective.  Certain  individuals  or  classes, 
known  to  be  well  endowed  in  respect  to  retentiveness,  be- 
come authoritative.  Such  people  improve  their  position  by 
deliberately  committing  to  memory  important  facts  or  legends 
of  history  and  the  details  of  laws  and  customs.  Often  this 
task  of  the  mind  is  lightened  somewhat  by  the  use  of  rhythm, 
alliteration,  rhyme,  or  any  other  literary  device  whereby  asso- 
ciations are  made  more  effective  and  memory  strengthened. 
Doubtless,  in  this  fact  is  to  be  found  an  important,  if  not  the 
fundamental,  reason  for  the  literary  form  in  which  the  basic 
tradition  of  early  civilizations  is  often  preserved,  especially 
before  the  advent  of  written  language.  Poetry  flourishes, 
not  merely  because  of  its  appeal  to  artistic  taste,  but  also 
because  of  its  assistance  to  memory.  Thus  the  Homeric  bards 
were  enabled  to  preserve  the  fundamental  ideals  and  traditions 
of  the  Greek  people,  because  these  were  embodied  in  poetic 
form.  Poetry  tends  to  decline  when  at  the  advent  of  written 
language  its  function  as  an  aid  to  memory  practically  dis- 
appears. 

2u 


Reenforce- 
ment  of 
individual 
by  social 
memory 
through 
oral  lan- 
guage 


Rise  of  a 
class  au- 
thoritative 
in  matters 
of  memory, 
and  of  de- 
vices for 
memoriz- 
ing 


370 


Principles  of  Education 


Advantage  of 
written 
language 
among 
these  de- 
vices 


Written  lan- 
guage and 
the  school 


Literacy  as 
the  mo- 
nopoly of 
a  leisure 
class 


All  the  devices  of  oral  memorizing  are  set  at  naught  by  the 
invention  of  written  language.  Here  we  have  an  instrumen- 
tality that  surpasses  the  highest  powers  of  the  individual. 
It  is  true  that  it  rests  back  on  individual  memory  for  the  mean- 
ing of  the  words.  However,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  when 
words  are  written  they  tend  to  assume  a  much  greater  fixity 
of  interpretation  than  before.  Various  contexts  determine  a 
meaning  closely.  Thus  manuscripts  and  inscriptions  pre- 
serve their  records  faithfully  through  the  ages,  since  by  a  com- 
parative study  of  their  characters  the  meanings  of  these  are 
made  clear  to  the  decipherer.  Hence,  it  becomes  very  diffi- 
cult to  distort  the  meaning  of  written  words  unconsciously, 
and  conscious  modification  must  be  justified.  Moreover, 
if  written  language  helps  in  fixing  the  meaning  of  words,  much 
more  does  it  aid  in  preserving  traditions,  descriptions,  laws,  and 
usages,  in  short,  all  matters  that  involve  many  details  and 
therefore  require  elaborate  forms  of  expression. 

Thus  collective  memory  becomes  reenforced  by  an  agency 
that  expands  almost  indefinitely  its  powers.  But  in  order  to 
utilize  this  instrument,  the  school  becomes  necessary.  We 
have  already  traced  the  rise  of  this  institution  from  the  primi- 
tive exercises  of  adolescence.1  The  factor  of  instruction  in 
tradition,  law,  and  belief,  which  enters  therein,  gradually 
increases  in  amount.  It  becomes  impossible  for  any  save 
those  who  have  especial  talent,  and  who  devote  themselves 
largely  to  the  task,  to  learn  all  that  is  thus  preserved.  Hence 
oral  tradition  becomes  the  property  of  a  class,  an  instrument 
of  authority,  a  means  of  social  control,  and  subject  to  what- 
ever modifications  this  class  may,  from  interested  or  other 
motives,  see  fit  to  introduce.  But  even  to  such  a  class  oral  com- 
munication may  finally  break  down  as  a  means  of  preserving 
its  treasures.  Pictorial  representation  becomes  convention- 

1  Compare  §  13. 


Language  371 

alized  and  the  ideograph  invented,  doubtless,  largely  as  a  re- 
sult of  a  constantly  growing  fear  that  memory,  in  spite  of  all 
precautions,  may  play  one  false,  or  to  relieve  the  intolerable 
burden  that  accumulating  material  places  upon  it.  With 
most  people  a  knowledge  of  writing  has  remained  for  many 
ages  the  exclusive  property  of  a  select  class,  the  members  of 
which  have  the  leisure,  the  ability,  and  the  opportunity  to 
receive  instruction  in  it.  Among  them  the  school  as  we  know 
it  —  that  is,  an  institution  the  primary  purpose  of  which  is  to 
develop  literacy  —  appears.  The  monopoly  of  power  to  read 
still  further  exalts  the  authority  of  the  learned  class. 

Thus  devotion  to  the  task  of  memorizing,  and  the  inven-  Ultimate 
tion  of  devices  to  aid  it,  culminating  in  written  language  and  effect"*1" 
the  school,  are  bound  up  with  the  development  of  a  special-  written 
ized  literary  caste.  Writing  at  first  tends  to  increase  their 
authority.  Ultimately,  it  tends  to  destroy  this.  For  written 
language  can  be  learned  so  much  more  easily  than  the  mass  of 
tradition  can  be  committed  to  memory  that  independent  ac- 
cess to  the  treasury  of  the  past  is  made  possible  to  a  wider 
circle  of  individuals  through  its  invention.  Writing  tends  to 
equalize  the  memories  of  all  who  learn  it.  Ultimately,  this 
fact  begins  to  be  felt  in  a  struggle  on  the  part  of  the  unculti- 
vated classes  to  share  in  a  knowledge  of  the  light.  Moreover, 
the  act  of  committing  a  tradition  to  writing  depersonalizes  it, 
as  it  were.  It  is  no  longer  associated  closely  with  the  talent, 
the  training,  the  individuality  of  persons  by  whose  memory 
it  is  preserved.  It  becomes  an  impersonal  thing  to  be  shared 
by  all  who  read.  Whatever  of  sanctity  it  possesses  becomes 
progressively  lost  to  the  learned  class,  the  more  the  tradition 
separates  itself  from  living  men,  and  the  more  reading  ceases 
to  be  an  esoteric  art. 

The  principle  that  is  here  outlined  can  be  said  to  apply  quite 
universally  in  human  history.     Put  in  a  general  form ,  it  declares 


372  Principles  of  Education 

that  any  advance  in  written  language  by  which  the  preserva- 
tion through  it  of  culture  is  rendered  easier  not  only  strength- 
ens the  social  memory  and  so  the  grip  of  tradition,  but  also 
tends  to  democratize  this.  Thus  we  find  that  the  reduction  of 
law  to  written  codes  often  occurs  in  connection  with  a  demo- 
cratic movement.  The  laws  of  Solon  are  said  to  have  origi- 
nated from  such  an  emergency.  The  mass  of  the  people  feel 
surer  of  the  integrity  of  their  rights  if  these  are  stated  in  a 
form  not  subject  to  the  manipulation  of  the  judicial  class. 
Such  security  is  dependent,  however,  on  the  literacy  of  at 
least  a  portion  of  the  governed  class,  and  implies  that  the  ad- 
vance in  writing  has  brought  about  a  tendency  toward  the 
democratization  of  the  power  to  read.  Again,  the  invention  of 
printing,  although  at  first  utilized  largely  by  those  already 
interested  in  books,  proved  ultimately  a  most  important  cause 
of  universal  literacy.  It  cheapened  reading  matter,  so  as  to 
put  it  within  the  reach  of  all  who  could  learn  to  read,  and  the 
general  movement  toward  democracy  has  made  it  possible  for 
all  to  be  literate. 

Thus  it  is  that  improvements  welcomed  by  the  learned  class 
as  increasing  their  efficiency  ultimately  tend  to  destroy  their 
monopoly.  An  equally  paradoxical  effect  may  be  noticed  in 
regard  to  the  conservative  influence  of  written  language.  So 
long  as  customs,  laws,  and  beliefs  are  preserved  by  oral  lan- 
guage, they  can  be  changed  readily  and  unconsciously.  To 
realize  this,  one  has  only  to  recall  the  ease  with  which  rumor 
modifies  the  message  that  it  spreads  about.  Such  changes  are 
often  intentional,  but  it  is  a  matter  of  common  observation 
that  differences  in  point  of  view,  variations  of  emphasis,  and 
defects  in  power  of  understanding  or  of  communication,  all 
tend  to  transform  the  original  fact  or  idea,  without  any  con- 
scious falsification.  Similarly,  oral  tradition  becomes  modi- 
fied, lending  itself  to  such  changes  as  new  emergencies,  new 


Language  373 

points  of  view,  new  interests  create.  It  is  a  flexible  affair, 
easily  adapted  to  the  particular  needs  of  the  individual,  class, 
or  age  that  preserves  or  utilizes  it.  Written  language  destroys  Primary  con- 
much  of  this  fluidity.  It  steadies  the  memory,  not  permitting 
the  reconstructions  of  a  changed  mood  or  intellectual  stand-  written 
point.  This  gain  in  firmness  carries  with  it  at  first  a  loss  in 
adaptability.  The  Chinese  educational  system  is  a  stock 
example  of  a  tradition  preserved  intact  until  it  has  grown 
out  of  touch  with  the  actual  emergencies  of  life.  It  is  im- 
possible to  constrain  human  activity  permanently  within  the 
forms  of  such  customs  as  even  the  wisest  of  men  devise. 
Nations,  even  those  in  isolation,  move  ahead.1  The  hollow- 
ness  of  preserving  the  form  after  its  real  value  has  disappeared  its  ultimate 
must  ultimately  be  noted.  Hypocrisy  must  at  last  become 
conscious  of  itself,  and  then  revolution  is  inevitable.  The 
process  is  swifter  with  nations  that  are  much  in  contact  with 
others,  and  subject  to  the  vicissitudes  of  international  struggle. 
Thus  a  few  centuries  after  the  substance  of  Hebrew  tradition 
had  been  committed  to  writing  by  Ezra  we  find  Paul  complain- 
ing that  "the  letter  killeth,  but  the  spirit  giveth  life."  Such  a 
discovery  tends  to  destroy  the  early  faith  in  the  infallibility 
of  those  sources  from  which  tradition  is  derived.  When  the 
sanction  of  faith  is  lost,  that  of  force  is  doomed.  Revolution 
begets  new  forms.  But  these  in  turn  are  seen  to  be  of  only 
temporary  value,  and  give  way.  Ultimately  mankind  comes 
to  feel  the  spirit  of  progress,  to  know  that  memory  should  be 
the  servant  and  not  the  master,  and  that  the  "golden  age"  is 
ahead.  Thus  written  language,  at  first  intensely  conservative, 
comes  ultimately  to  provoke  that  most  progressive  of  condi- 
tions in  which  men  constantly  strive  for  the  betterment  of 
their  institutions.  Destroying  the  tendency  toward  uncon- 
scious advance  which  oral  tradition  permits,  it  compels,  in  the 

1  Compare  §  39. 


374 


Principles  of  Education 


Similar  ef- 
fects on 
race  and 
individual 


long  run,  the  rise  of  a  conscious  spirit  of  progress  that  is  un- 
trammeled  by  a  stultifying  worship  of  the  past. 

The  same  agencies  that  improve  the  memory  of  a  race,  mak- 
ing for  stability  and  ultimately  for  conscious  and  intelligent 
reform,  operate  in  the  education  of  the  individual  to  foster  firm- 
ness of  character  and  a  conscious  struggle  toward  betterment. 
Character,  according  to  Herbart,1  depends  upon  ''memory  of 
the  will,"  and  this  finds  a  most  important  auxiliary  in  the 
reminders  of  teacher  and  parent.  Whatever  makes  for  per- 
manence in  the  memory  of  society  reacts  upon  the  power  of 
the  individual  to  restore  his  own  past.  The  memory  of  each  is 
to  a  great  extent  an  inference  from  his  treatment  by  others. 
The  keeping  of  a  diary  may  do  much  to  clarify  and  render 
effective  one's  ideals,  and  also  cause  one  to  substitute  for  the 
ideal  of  mere  consistency  that  of  improvement. 

We  may  sum  up  the  thought  of  this  section  as  follows  : 
Language  is  an  aid  to  the  memory,  not  only  because  the  word 
helps  us  to  discriminate  and  retain  the  concept,  but  also  be- 
cause through  communication  the  memory  of  the  individual 
is  supported  by  the  collective  memory  of  all,  especially  by  that 
of  the  best.  Those  who  by  talent  or  training  are  best  situated 
to  keep  in  memory  the  traditions  become  a  privileged,  learned 
class,  authoritative  as  the  guardians  of  social  heredity.  Among 
them  devices  for  aiding  the  memory  appear,  the  most  impor- 
tant of  which  is  written  language.  This  instrument  leads  to 
the  school,  and  so  long  as  it  can  be  monopolized  by  the  learned 
class,  it  enhances  their  authority.  Ultimately  written  lan- 
guage tends  toward  democracy,  since  it  can  be  learned  by  all, 
and  since  its  acquisition  tends  to  equalize  men  in  respect  both 
to  their  efficiency  in  preserving  the  past  and  to  their  ability 
to  get  at  the  sources  of  authority.  Finally,  written  language 
fosters  so  literal  a  conservatism  that  it  creates  the  plague  of 

1  The  Science  of  Education,  third  book,  Ch.  I,  II. 


Language  375 

the  archaic  law  or  institution.  When  the  evil  of  this  condition 
is  once  recognized,  men  are  compelled  to  lose  their  primitive 
respect  for  the  past  and  to  assume  consciously  the  revolution- 
ary and  the  progressive  spirit.  This  change  in  the  spirit  of 
the  institutions  of  men  is  paralleled  in  the  growth  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  individual  under  the  influence  of  the  social  mind. 
One's  "memory  of  the  will"  is  strengthened  so  that  he  comes 
to  have  ideals,  to  struggle  for  consistency,  and  finally  to  turn 
his  efforts  toward  betterment,  even  at  the  expense  of  breaking 
with  his  past  ideals. 

SECTION  42.     Education  in  language 

Since  the  most  important  agency  of  social  heredity  is  Ian-  Language 
guage,  society  has  rightly  emphasized  it  as  the  fundamental      JJ^Sjda 
concern  in  education.     It  is  the  leading  "acquired  character."      concern  in 
Through  it  alone  is  a  social  environment  of  the  higher  type 
made  possible.     Throughout  the  ages  the  linguistic  aim  has 
dominated  the  school.     But  this   devotion  of  the  school  to  Criticism  of 
language  has  been  severely  criticised.     Social,  political,  re-      ^tTthe 
ligious,  educational  reformers  are  fond  of  satirizing  the  love      school  to 
of  words  that  overmasters  the  learned  professions,  particu- 
larly that  of  teaching.     The  spirit  is  distinguished  from  the 
letter,  the  fact  from  the  word,  and  the  cry  is  raised  that  man- 
kind has  become  enslaved  by  verbiage,  and  can  be  saved 
only  by  abandoning  symbols  and  associating  more  freely  with 
realities. 

This  criticism  is  at  once  superficial  and  true.  It  is  super-  Two  serious 
ficial  because  it  assumes  that  the  human  mind  possesses  a  con- 
siderable  power  of  dealing  with  realities  apart  from  words. 
It  is  true  because  the  interest  in  words  on  the  part  of  the 
schoolmaster  leads  to  certain  oversights  in  instruction.  It 
may  keep  him  busy  in  teaching  words  when  the  concepts  that 


376  Principles  of  Education 

they  express  have  come  to  be  practically  valueless.  It  may 
cause  him  to  neglect  a  proper  study  of  the  concept  in  its  rela- 
tion to  realities,  with  the  result  that  it  does  not  prove  as  avail- 
able as  it  should  in  the  analysis  and  treatment  of  new  situa- 
tions. 

i)  Verbal-  These  two  criticisms  sum  up  the  serious  follies  of  verbalism, 
terfering"  The  first  fault  amounts  practically  to  Bacon's  "idol  of  the 
with  the  market-place."  Words  constrain  us  to  think  in  certain  ways, 

reconstruc- 
tion of         and  often  these  are  not  the  best  ways  of  regarding  the  facts. 

concepts;  jrorms  of  expression  are  an  indispensable  social  adaptation, 
but,  like  most  of  these,  they  vary  in  value  with  the  ages. 
They  are  the  main  avenue  of  approach  to  social  heredity,  but 
social  heredity  contains  much  that  should  from  time  to  time 
be  abandoned.  Hence,  in  teaching  words  one  must  be  careful 
to  note  whether  the  concepts  they  express  are  really  worth 
while,  whether  the  analysis  of  experience  to  which  they  lead 
is  one  that  meets  the  emergencies  of  life  in  general,  and  es- 
pecially to-day.  The  possession  of  a  name  is  apt  to  give  a 
concept  a  fictitious  value.  Since  the  name  is  a  means  of 
preserving  the  concept  for  the  individual  and  for  the  race,  we 
are  apt  to  assume  that  because  a  concept  has  such  a  designa- 
tion it  is  worth  preserving.  This  by  no  means  follows.  So 
far  as  the  concept  is  concerned,  the  value  of  the  name  lies  in 
that  it  holds  this  concept  in  individual  or  social  memory  long 
enough  for  it  to  be  tested  as  to  its  value.  But  those  who  are 
interested  in  names  —  the  learned  class,  whose  business  it  is 
to  preserve  social  heredity  through  words,  and  the  school- 
masters, whose  task  it  is  to  teach  words  that  through  them 
social  heredity  may  be  accessible  —  are  apt  not  to  notice  when 
a  concept  has  failed  to  stand  the  test  of  practice.  They  pre- 
serve terminologies  when  the  systems  of  thought  which  these 
represent  have  in  effect  proved  to  be  useless  or  unreliable  analy- 
ses of  experience.  It  is  not  realized  that  forms  of  analysis 


Language 


377 


ism  as  fail- 
ing to  pro- 
vide for  j 
the  useful 
recall  of 
concepts 


that  are  suited  to  one  stage  of  social  development  may  be 
without  value  or  positively  harmful  in  another.  Thus  words 
tend  to  interfere  with  that  free  struggle  for  existence  among 
concepts  by  which  alone  the  latter  can  become  truly  scien- 
tific. The  love  of  language,  like  conservatism,  prevents 
hasty  abandonment  of  ideas,  but  at  the  cost  of  keeping  alive 
much  that  functions  in  waste. 

The  second  fault  of  verbalism  lies  in  the  tendency  on  the  (2)  verbal- 
part  of  the  school  to  be  content  with  such  a  knowledge  of  the 
concept  as  insures  a  working  mastery  of  the  word  that  des- 
ignates it.  The  learning  of  a  new  word  means  an  addition  to 
one's  equipment  of  concepts.  The  acquisition  of  a  foreign 
tongue  or  of  a  scientific  or  philosophic  terminology  means  a 
new  system  of  concepts,  —  an  expansion  not  only  of  words 
but  of  ideas.  The  consciousness  of  this  value  leads  the  school 
to  rely  too  exclusively  upon  it.  This  attitude  is  supported 
by  a  recognition  of  the  fact  that  the  generality  of  the  concept 
is  the  quality  that  makes  it  applicable  to  many  situations, 
and,  therefore,  the  essence  of  that  which  is  practically  useful 
in  experience.  It  is  assumed  that,  since  a  comprehension  of 
the  meaning  of  the  word  implies  a  seizing  of  the  concept  in 
the  abstract  or  generalized  form,  the  knowledge  of  this  mean- 
ing is  all  that  one  needs  in  order  to  apply  the  concept  to  use. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  the  mere  knowledge  of 
the  abstract  concept  does  not  necessarily  involve  the  power 
to  recall  it  when  it  might  prove  useful.1  One  may  know  much 
about  the  principles  of  mechanics,  and  yet  fail  to  recognize  in 
a  new  case  an  occasion  for  the  application  of  some  of  this  knowl- 
edge. It  is  necessary  that  one  shall  have  noted  the  applica- 
tion of  the  concept  to  many  situations  superficially  much 
different  from  each  other  in  order  to  get  it  well  under  power  of 
recall.  That  accurate  knowledge  of  the  concept  which  comes 

1  Compare  §  30. 


378  Principles  of  Education 

from  mastering  the  word  and  its  general  meaning  does  not 
suffice  to  put  it  in  a  position  to  be  readily  utilized, 
reed  of  It  is  interesting  to  note  in  the  development  of  a  vocabulary 

training  m    &  difficulty  similar  to  the  one  just  shown  to  arise  in  connection 

the  use  of  * 

words  with  the  effective  mastery  of  a  concept.  All  men  know  the 
meaning  of  many  more  words  than  they  actually  use  to  ex- 
press themselves.  It  is  the  business  of  the  school,  not  only  to 
teach  the  meanings  of  new  words,  but  also  to  practice  in  their 
use,  so  that  the  gap  between  the  vocabulary  understood  and 
that  utilized  in  speech  may  not  be  too  great.  Words,  like 
concepts,  may  lie  as  useless  lumber  in  the  mind,  and  the  only 
device  that  education  knows  to  meet  this  difficulty  is  to  force 
both  on  the  attention  in  such  a  variety  of  cases  that  the  mind 
associates  with  them  such  an  abundance  of  incidental  data  as 
to  afford  many  links  for  their  recall  in  addition  to  the  funda- 
mental common  relationships  that  they  represent.  Thus  one 
grows  expectant  of  them  even  in  somewhat  strange  surround- 
ings, 
reed  of  As  a  final  word  upon  the  subject  of  instruction  in  language, 

training  m    mention  may  j-,e  made  of  certain  values  of  the  written  record 

keeping  •* 

written  rec-  that  need  to  be  impressed  on  the  learner.  In  the  evolution  of 
written  language  writing  preceded  reading,  but  in  the  teach- 
ing of  the  art  reading  almost  universally  comes  first.  Hence 
it  is  that  our  power  to  read  as  a  rule  outruns  our  power  to 
write.  We  utilize  what  others  have  recorded,  but  make  no 
contribution  from  our  own  minds  to  the  permanent  records  of 
language.  This  attitude  may  be  partly  the  result  of  lack  of 
independent  creativeness  and  energy  on  the  part  of  the  great 
majority.  They  are  born  not  to  lead  but  to  follow,  to  rely  on 
others  rather  than  to  make  use  of  devices  for  self-support. 
Such  passivity  is  not  unconquerable,  however,  and  it  is  the 
part  of  education  to  make  men  self-reliant  and  resourceful. 
Among  the  possible  resources  of  the  individual,  not  the  least 


Language  379 

is  the  habit  of  supporting  the  memory  by  the  use  of  the  written 
record. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  enlarge  upon  the  gain  in  social  efficiency 
that  comes  from  a  knowledge  of  effective  methods  of  written 
expression  and  from  the  habit  of  their  use.  This  value  is  so 
evident  as  to  have  engaged  fully  the  attention  of  master  and 
pupil  alike.  But  comparatively  few  realize  clearly  the  gain  in 
amount  and  reliability  of  resources  for  judgment  that  comes 
from  the  recording  of  the  experience  upon  which  this  process 
of  judgment  depends.  To  the  scientifically  trained,  it  goes 
without  saying  that  observations  which  are  not  noted  in  writ- 
ing will  very  probably  be  distorted  or  lost.  Wherever  in  the 
conduct  of  life  the  scientific  spirit  prevails,  there  the  general- 
izations upon  which  practice  is  based  are  founded  on  observa- 
tions the  nature  of  which  is  kept  with  care  by  means  of  a 
written  record.  Other  generalizations  may  well  be  char- 
acterized in  the  scornful  language  of  Plato  as  mere  opinion. 

The  scientific  record  that  is  here  in  view  is  not  functionally  Scientific 
the  same  as  that  which  may  not  inappropriately  be  called  the  records10' 
historic  record.  There  is  a  clear  distinction  between  a  record 
that  preserves  facts  accurately  merely  for  the  sake  of  drawing 
from  them  correct  generalizations  and  one  that  preserves  facts 
for  their  own  sake,  or  facts  that  without  any  further  generaliza- 
tion may  be  of  importance  in  determining  future  conduct. 
The  latter,  or  historic,  record  has  an  obvious  value,  and  one 
recognized  from  the  very  beginning  of  written  language.  The 
desire  to  protect  such  legal  facts  as  by  their  specific  nature 
determine  future  action,  e.g.  contractual  relations,  from  the 
treachery  of  memory  or  of  cunning  was  an  important  motive 
for  the  invention  of  writing.  So,  too,  the  merchant  has  from 
time  immemorial  kept  books  to  enable  him  to  remember  his 
debits  and  credits.  If  one  has  many  engagements,  it  seems 
almost  necessary  to  keep  a  record  of  them.  Such  historic 


38o 


Principles  of  Education 


Especial 
need  of 
training  in 
keeping 
scientific 
records 


records  are  valuable  primarily  because  they  involve  the  future 
conduct  in  reference  to  each  other  of  two  or  more  parties,  any 
of  whom  may  treacherously  repudiate  his  obligation  if  there 
be  no  written  record  or  witness  to  refute  him.  They  have, 
however,  the  secondary  value  of  sustaining  the  memory  against 
its  own  imperfections  as  well  as  against  the  trickery  of  others. 

The  value  of  the  scientific  record  has  not  been  so  generally 
felt.  Where  a  fact  is  of  no  significance  except  for  the  sake 
of  helping  to  sustain  or  to  disprove  a  generalization,  one  is  apt 
to  trust  it  to  memory.  The  merchant  has  not  fully  realized 
the  value  of  such  records  as  help  him  to  see  which  lines  of 
business  are  most  profitable.  The  legislator  has  not  made 
much  of  keeping  a  written  account  of  such  data  as  concern 
the  effect  of  laws.  Most  physicians  regard  their  memories  as 
able  to  preserve  an  adequate  account  of  the  effects  of  their 
medicines.  It  is  true  that  a  sense  of  the  importance  of  the 
scientific  record  is  gradually  creeping  into  the  professions. 
We  utilize  in  generalization  such  historic  records  as  may  prove 
of  scientific  value.  But  the  scientific  record  is  often  concerned 
with  facts  that  from  the  historic  point  of  view  have  no  in- 
terest. Until  they  are  put  into  generalizations  they  are  triv- 
ial and  insignificant.  The  appreciation  of  the  value  of  such 
facts  is,  therefore,  in  need  of  careful  cultivation.  It  is  among 
those  attitudes  that  the  school  will  find  well  worthy  of  attention. 

It  is  probably  correct  to  say  that  the  school  to-day,  even  in 
its  upper  departments  of  college  and  university,  stresses  the 
keeping  of  what  we  have  called  historic  records  rather  than 
those  that  are  scientific.  Note  taking  that  one  may  pass  ex- 
aminations, or  even  that  one  may  write  essays,  is  usually  an 
historic  record.  The  facts  they  preserve  are  of  specific  value, 
and  not,  as  a  rule,  to  be  used  merely  as  a  basis  for  generaliza- 
tion. Here,  then,  is  an  opportunity  for  the  school  to  lead  the 
way  toward  popularizing  the  spirit  and  the  methods  of  sci- 


Language  381 

entific  research.  In  education,  in  politics,  in  business  the 
need  of  scientifically  gathered  data  is  beginning  to  be  in- 
tensely felt.  Such  a  demand  cannot  fail  to  have  its  reaction 
upon  the  instruction  of  the  school.  It  can  hardly  be  expected 
that  children  in  the  elementary  grades  can  be  trained  to  the 
highest  appreciation  of  scientific  method.  Yet  even  so  far 
down  in  the  school  as  this  much  in  the  way  of  a  critical  spirit, 
a  power  to  distinguish  between  carefully  established  principles 
and  mere  opinions,  and  a  sense  of  the  value  of  the  written 
record  in  supporting  generalizations  can  beyond  question 
be  given.1 

We  have  in  this  section  dealt  with  the  most  general  edu-  summary 
cational  issues  involved  in  linguistic  instruction.  The  ac- 
quisition of  language  is  with  man  the  first  and  most  impor- 
tant step  in  attaining  his  social  heredity.  But  in  stressing 
education  in  language  the  schoolmaster  is  apt  to  fall  into 
verbalism.  Two  serious  evils  may  follow.  The  learning  of 
classic  words  may  tend  to  perpetuate  concepts  that  are  or 
should  be  obsolete.  Terminologies  preserve  ideas  and  sys- 
tems of  ideas  after  they  have  outlived  their  usefulness.  Again, 
the  study  of  the  concept  may  be  confined  to  those  general 
meanings  with  which  the  word  is  always  associated.  If  so, 
one  fails  to  get  it  well  enough  associated  with  concrete  situa- 
tions to  be  readily  recalled  when  it  should  be  used.  Herein 
we  find  a  phase  of  verbalism  far  more  common  and  far  less 
easily  detected  than  the  wooden  and  patent  blunder  of  teach- 
ing words  without  meanings  at  all.  Finally,  the  power  to 
use  written  language  effectively  is  a  result  which,  because 
both  of  its  difficulty  and  of  its  importance,  should  receive 
especial  attention  in  education.  One  should  be  taught  to 
express  himself  effectively  in  writing,  and  also  to  make  written 
records  both  historic  and  scientific.  The  making  of  scientific 
1  Compare  McMurry,  How  to  Study,  Ch.  VI. 


382  Principles  of  Education 

records  is  to-day  a  comparatively  rare  thing  in  the  world  at 
large,  and  is  very  little  emphasized  in  the  school,  especially 
in  the  elementary  grades.  There  is,  however,  a  rapidly  grow- 
ing demand  that  the  practice  of  various  professions  should  be 
made  more  scientific.  Training  in  the  scientific  spirit  by  the 
school  can  do  much  to  accelerate  this  movement.  Even 
children  in  the  elementary  grades  can  appreciate  the  differ- 
ence between  a  judgment  based  on  recorded  facts  and  one 
dependent  on  a  vague  massing  of  material  in  memory. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PLAY 

SECTION  43.     General  theory  of  play 

AMONG  the  forms  that  educational  activities  assume,  that  Play  the  fun- 
of  play  is  so  important  as  to  demand  a  special  chapter  in  the 
theory  of  education.     Play  is  the  characteristic  activity  of  in-      activity 
fancy,  and  infancy  is  the  time  of  special  capacity  to  learn. 
Hence,  it  would  seem  like  a  logical  conclusion  that  the  funda- 
mental educative  activity  is  play.     Indeed,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  this  proposition  is  very  near  the  truth. 

At  the  outset  of  the  discussion  of  our  topic,  it  is  necessary  to  Child  play 
distinguish  between  the  play  of  children  and  that  of  adults, 


While  the  latter  grows  out  of  the  former  and  is,  perhaps,     from  that 
fundamentally  the  same,  still  there  are  some  differences  in     Definition 
motive,  and  there  may  be  a  very  large  contrast  in  function,      of  play 
Play  is  commonly  understood  to  mean  any  activity  pursued 
for  its  own  sake  without  reference  to  the  utility  of  its  re- 
sults.    Herein  both  adult  and  child  play  agree.     But  in  the 
plays  of  the  child  the  educational  utility  is  far  more  in  evidence 
than  in  those  of  the  mature  person. 

Taking  up  the  play  of  children,  one  comes  at  once  upon  a  instinctive 
very  interesting  question.  Why  should  the  child  like  to  do 
that  which  is  of  such  value  in  his  development  ?  The  proper 
answer  would  seem  to  be  that  it  is  because  the  activities  of 
play  are  instinctive.  This  characteristic  renders  them  inevi- 
table and  pleasurable  without  thought  of  consequences.  The 
child  must  play,  first,  because  he  has  instincts  and  must  strive 

383 


384 


Principles  of  Education 


Two  other 
theories  of  \ 
play 


Criticism  of 
the  recrea- 
tion 
thory, 


to  satisfy  them,  and,  second,  because  his  equipment  of  instinc- 
tive acts  and  habits  by  means  of  which  the  instincts  may  be 
met  is  imperfect.  He  lacks  strength,  maturity  of  instinctive 
associations,  adequate  equipment  of  habits  and  experience. 
He  feels  the  force  of  the  instincts  and  expresses  them  through 
immature  forms.  This  is  child  play.  That  he  does  not  feel 
dissatisfied  with  such  activity,  and  long  for  such  results  as 
mature  power  can  achieve,  is  due  to  two  subsidiary  condi- 
tions. The  first  is  that  through  fostering  agencies  he  is  sup- 
plied with  those  necessities  which  it  is  the  business  of  the  in- 
stinct to  urge  him  to  seek.  He  is  not  driven  by  harsh  need 
of  self-support  to  realize  the  difference  between  play  and  ma- 
ture activity.  The  second  is  that  through  imagination  he  is 
able  to  invent  a  world  of  make-believe,  and  thus  to  bridge  the 
gap  between  what  he  wants  and  what  he  can  get. 

The  theory  of  play  thus  outlined  is  essentially  that  of  Pro- 
fessor Groos,1  and  may  be  said  to  be  the  one  most  generally 
accepted.  Other  theories,  the  "recreation  "  theory  of  Lazarus,2 
and  the  "surplus  energy  theory"  of  Schiller3  and  Spencer,4 
may  be  said  to  be  suggestive  and  contributory,  but  not  fun- 
damental. That  adults  turn,  when  they  play,  to  some  activity 
other  than  that  which  is  wearied  is  an  usual,  though  by  no 
means  an  universal,  rule.  Play  is  not  always  recreative. 
Again,  if  we  were  to  suppose  this  to  be  its  function,  we  might 
well  ask  the  nature  of  the  forces  that  lead  to  so  beneficent  an 
activity.  To  say  that  men  turn  to  play  because  they  are 
tired  of  work  is  at  best  a  merely  negative  explanation.  Why 
do  they  not  content  themselves  with  resting  ?  If  the  answer 
is  made  that  the  most  effective  rest  is  in  recreative  activities, 

1  The  Play  of  Animals  and  The  Play  of  Man. 

2  Die  Reize  des  Spiels. 

*  Letters  on  the  ^Esthetic  Education  of  Mankind. 
4  Principles  of  Psychology,  Part  IX,  Ch.  IX. 


Play  385 

one  wishes  to  know  the  impulses  that  drive  toward  these. 
The  only  answer  is  that  they  must  be  positive  instincts, 
which  cause  certain  forms  of  activity  to  delight  for  their  own 
sake. 

Thus,  even  with  the  adult,  the  recreation  theory  cannot  ex-  of  the  sur- 
plain  the  positive  activities  of  play.  To  the  child,  in  whom  ^ 
play  is  the  typical  activity,  the  view  seems  to  have  no  appli- 
cation. The  same  difficulties  beset  the  surplus  energy  theory. 
Just  as  play  is  not  always  recreative  with  adults,  and  seldom 
so  with  children,  so  the  young  and  sometimes  even  the  old 
play  when  they  have  little  or  no  surplus  energy.  It  is  well 
known  that  children  will  play  when  they  are  tired  or  sick.  It 
is  true  that  a  playing  child  will,  other  things  being  equal,  be 
likely  to  employ  powers  that  are  not  fatigued,  yet  if  the  in- 
citement be  sufficiently  strong,  he  may  continue  to  strain  his 
jaded  muscles.  Thus  the  surplus  energy  theory  merely  serves 
occasionally  to  explain  why  children  choose  one  sport  rather 
than  another. 

The  form  of  play  cannot  be  determined  apart  from  the  in-  instinct  ex- 
stincts.  In  his  sports  the  child  manifests  the  fundamental 
needs  of  his  life  by  such  activities  as  he  is  able  to  command,  of  play 
That  these  activities  are  only  playful  is  primarily  due  to  the 
fact  that  he  is  only  a  child.  Even  with  men  play  usually 
takes  the  form  of  some  occupation  in  which  the  player  is 
merely  an  amateur.  In  general,  activity  will  be  playful  when 
it  is  immature,  or  when  the  situation  that  evokes  it  is  not  such 
as  to  demand,  or,  perhaps,  even  to  admit,  its  serious  exercise. 
The  so-called  instinct  to  play  can  probably  be  resolved  into 
the  various  instincts  that  give  form  to  the  play  impulse. 
The  instincts  are  so  powerful  that  they  drive  the  individual 
into  activity.  They  make  him  essentially  an  active  being; 
to  seem  to  love  activity  for  its  own  sake,  so  that  when  he  is  not 
coerced  into  work  he  must,  unless  exhausted,  turn  to  play. 


386 


Principles  of  Education 


Distinction 
between 
play  and 
work 


Play  as  pre- 
paratory to 
the  avoca- 
tion 


Since  we  have  so  far  discussed  in  the  main  the  play  of  chil- 
dren, we  have  had  in  mind  an  activity  which  has  no  special  util- 
ity except  that  which  is  educational.  But  if  play  is  denned  as 
that  activity  which  is  attractive  for  its  own  sake,  it  is  not  of 
necessity  without  consequences  that  are  valuable  independently 
of  their  educational  significance.  Play  may  or  may  not  be 
serious.  Similarly,  work,  which  commonly  means  activity 
for  the  sake  of  some  ulterior  end,  may  be  so  pleasant  that  one 
would  continue  it  even  though  its  utility  were  absent.  Thus 
the  boundary  lines  between  play  and  work  seem  vague  and 
indeterminate.  From  the  practical  point  of  view,  however, 
a  distinction  can  be  made.  Wherever  utility  is  so  important 
that  it  would  constrain  one  to  a  certain  activity,  even  though 
this  were  not  attractive  in  itself,  there  we  have  work.  On  the 
other  hand,  wherever  the  motive  of  utility  is  relatively  in- 
significant, there  the  activity  may  properly  be  called  playful. 
Thus  with  adults  play  means  the  avocation,  work  the  vocation. 
One's  vocation  may  be  delightful  to  him,  yet  he  feels  that 
he  cannot  abandon  it,  even  if  it  were  irksome.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  feel  no  such  coercive  motive  in  our  avocations. 

With  the  lower  animals  and  primitive  men  play  leads  in- 
sensibly into  both  vocation  and  avocations.  In  fact,  in  these 
cases'  no  sharp  line  of  demarcation  exists  between  the  two 
phases  of  adult  life.  In  civilized  society  there  is  some  doubt 
as  to  whether  play  can  be  used  to  any  extent  to  give  specific 
preparation  for  the  vocation.  This  issue  will  be  debated  later. 
But  there  can  be  no  question  that  the  play  of  the  child  leads 
into  the  avocations  of  the  man.  There  is  a  continuity  be- 
tween the  games  of  childhood  and  the  incidental  pursuits  of 
later  life  which  it  is  of  great  importance  for  education  to  note 
and  to  respect. 

We  may  sum  up  the  contrast  between  the  play  of  children 
and  the  avocations  of  men  somewhat  as  follows.  Child  play 


Play  387 

functions  mainly  as  an  education.  The  avocation  is  partly  Contrast  be- 
educative,  but  it  also  serves  as  a  recreation,  as  contributory  IncTavoca^ 
to  social  efficiency  by  fostering  contact  with  others  in  a  va-  tion 
riety  of  ways,  and  as  productive  of  many  results  of  direct 
utility,  such  as  artistic  surroundings.  Both  child  play  and 
the  avocation  are  pursued  from  interest  in  the  activities  for 
their  own  sake.  In  the  case  of  the  child,  this  interest  is  not 
clouded  by  any  feeling  of  the  lack  of  importance  in  what  he  is 
doing.  The  fact  that  the  vocation  does  not  exist  for  him, 
coupled  with  his  power  of  make-believe,  suffices  to  render  him 
contented  with  play.  In  the  man  the  avocation  is  often  felt 
to  need  excuse.  It  may  be  justified  because  it  appeals  to  the 
judgment  as  to  what  is  really  desirable  or  in  good  taste,  or 
because  of  the  need  of  recreation,  or  because  the  person  has  a 
right  to  do  as  he  pleases  with  his  idle  time.  The  interest  in 
the  avocation  may  spring  from  its  conformity  to  the  tastes 
of  the  individual,  from  an  intense  desire  to  be  active,  —  a  sur- 
plus energy  that,  owing  to  the  situation  of  its  possessor,  finds 
no  need  of  discharging  itself  in  the  pursuits  of  a  vocation,  —  or 
from  a  survival  of  child  interest  in  certain  specific  activities. 
This  last  feeling  may  be  intensified  by  reverberations  in  mem- 
ory of  the  joy  of  childhood  in  similar  pursuits.  It  is  doubtless 
largely  this  that  makes  some  so  fond  of  witnessing  as  specta- 
tors sports  in  which  they  formerly  took  part  as  players. 

There  is  yet  another  phase  of  adult  play  that  needs  con-  Theavoca- 
sideration.     The  play  of  the  child  often  becomes  the  serious      basL'of  the 
pursuit,  the  work  of  the  man.     This  happens  because  of  its      vocation 
grip  upon  social  interest.     Through  the  game  or  the  avoca- 
tion one  may  gain  praise,  prestige,  and,  indirectly,  many  other 
benefits  of  the  highest  utility.     Hence  men  pursue  such  oc- 
cupations, not  for  their  own  sake,  but  for  their  utility.    Again, 
their  hold  upon  human  interest  renders  it  profitable  for  some 
to  make  a  vocation  of  catering  to  the  taste  for  them.     The 


388  Principles  of  Education 

professional  athlete,  the  actor,  the  artist,  perhaps  one  may 
even  say  the  scholar  and  investigator,  come  into  existence 
because  men  are  willing  to  pay  for  the  entertainment  they 
afford.  The  avocation  of  the  many  becomes  the  vocation  of 
the  few. 

Hence  it  comes  about  that  the  game  that  at  first  functions 
mainly  as  an  education  proves  useful,  not  merely  for  recrea- 
tion, but  also  as  the  serious  business  of  life.  The  pursuits  of 
leisure  become  included  among  the  vocations.  That  this 
should  continue  to  be  so,  however,  requires  that  these  activi- 
ties should  be  for  the  mass  of  men  avocations.  Thus  the  play 
of  the  child,  in  leading  into  the  avocations  of  the  man,  is  pre- 
paring a  social  demand  in  which  a  large  number  of  the  voca- 
tions take  root.  Ultimately,  the  callings  that  cater  to  what 
have  been  historically  the  leisure  interests  of  life  will,  doubt- 
less, far  overshadow  the  others  in  the  numbers  that  are  con- 
cerned in  them. 

Educational  The  play  of  children,  then,  consists  of  the  immature  mani- 
pky0ni  festations  of  their  instincts.  Such  activities  lead  on  into  that 
large  mass  of  interests  that  sustains  among  men  all  pursuits 
except  those  that  minister  to  the  simplest  necessities  of  life. 
That  which  men  do  for  the  sake  of  the  doing  is  that  broader 
phase  of  their  lives  in  which  they  join  with  humanity  to 
create  the  standards  of  life,  —  the  demands  which  men  in  their 
vocations  strive  to  supply.  Thus  play  educates,  not  so  much 
in  the  vocation,  as  in  those  motives  that  make  work,  whether 
in  the  child  or  the  man,  seem  worth  while. 

SECTION  44.     The  games  of  childhood 

Before  discussing  more  minutely  the  educational  value  of 
play,  it  may  be  well  to  analyze  briefly  the  character  of  the 
games  of  childhood,  and  also  to  take  a  rapid  survey  of  the 


Play 


389 


part  that  the  game  has  played  in  the  history  of  education. 
By  a  game  may  be  understood  any  specific  form  that  play  as- 
sumes. The  games  of  childhood,  and  in  fact  of  all  ages,  may 
be  classified  as  individual  or  social,  according  as  they  involve 
one  or  more  than  one  person.  It  is  evident  that  individual 
games  are  relatively  far  less  numerous  and  important  than  are 
those  involving  social  cooperation.  Moreover,  such  games  as 
may  be  said  to  be  primarily  individual  may  also  assume  a 
social  form  and,  indeed,  come  to  have  largely  a  social  character. 

The  individual  games  may  be  roughly  classified  into  (i)  im- 
pulsive activities;  (2)  games  appealing  to  the  aesthetic  sense; 
(3)  feats;  and  (4)  destructive  and  constructive  sport.  The 
simplest  form  that  the  play  impulse  takes  is  that  of  mere 
activity,  without  any  conscious  interest  in  either  its  form  or 
its  results.  Much  of  this  sort  of  play  is  mere  instinctive  or 
reflex  activity,  but  the  attitude  of  the  child  makes  it  seem 
purposeless.  Running,  leaping,  climbing,  getting  the  body 
into  a  variety  of  positions,  grasping,  and  throwing  things  about 
are  illustrations.  Such  activities  may  also  be  mental  and 
take  the  form  of  an  endeavor  to  get  surprising  or  lively  sensa- 
tions or  that  of  imaginative  invention. 

As  the  child  accumulates  experience  and  recalls  his  earlier 
activities,  mere  impulsive  play  becomes  transformed  into 
games  in  which  either  the  form  of  what  he  does  or  its  results 
or  both  constitute  important  centers  of  interest.  Where  form 
is  the  attractive  element,  we  may  say  that  the  appeal  is  to  the 
aesthetic  sense.  Children  love  repetition,  the  recurrence  of 
the  familiar,  rhythm,  and  rhyme,  and  simple  musical  form. 
When  they  grow  old  enough  to  grasp  the  customary,  the  con- 
ventional, they  become  devoted  to  it,  and  protest  strenuously 
against  any  innovations.  The  child  displays  this  taste  in  his 
solitary  games  and  in  his  imagination,  in  the  tales  that  he  tells, 
and  in  his  criticism  of  the  stories  that  others  tell  him. 


Games  as  in- 
dividual 
and  social. 
Impor- 
tance of  the 
latter 


Classes  of  in- 
dividual 
games :  (i) 
impulsive 
activities. 
Interest  in 
mere  activ- 
ity; 


(2)    esthetic 
games.  In- 
terest in 
the  form  of 
activity ; 


3QO  Principles  of  Education 

(3)  feats.  The  interest  in  performing  feats  is,  perhaps,  the  simplest 

Interest  in 

the  results    phase  of  sport  in  which  attention  is  directed  toward  the  result. 


of  activity;  ^he  stimulus  is  here,  of  course,  often  the  desire  to  cope  with 
or  to  surpass  a  competitor,  and  hence  we  have  a  social  game. 
However,  children  endeavor  to  "do  stunts"  without  any 
pressure  of  rivalry.  The  surroundings  invite  the  active  child 
to  test  himself  ;  memory  offers  a  glimpse  of  his  past  activity 
that  he  strives  to  surpass  ;  imagination,  stimulated  especially 
by  tales  of  the  deeds  of  others  or  by  a  direct  perception  of 
unusual  forms  of  skill,  provokes  the  child  to  emulate  the  ad- 
mired acts  so  far  as  his  physical  or  mental  powers  permit. 
Here  the  feat  merges  into  the  dramatic  game. 

)  destmc-         The   interest  in   results   culminates,   so   far   as   individual 

structive11"  games  are  concerned,  in  destructive  or  constructive  sport. 

sport  The  object  of  the  game  comes  to  be  clearly  distinguished  from 
the  activities  by  which  it  is  attained.  Destructive  sport,  be- 
ginning in  such  activities  as  breaking  things  and  pulling  them 
apart,  or  destroying  them  and  throwing  them  about,  is  at 
first  hardly  distinguishable  from  mere  impulsive  activity. 
Later,  however,  it  becomes  reenforced  by  curiosity  and  the 
love  of  displaying  power,  and  the  child  destroys  in  order  to 
learn  or  to  exhibit  his  strength.  Such  interest  is,  however, 
temporary,  as  a  rule,  and  it  is  in  constructive  sport  that  the 
genuine  delight  in  the  outcome  of  individual  activity  becomes 
most  clearly  evident.  Here  the  child  plays,  not  merely  be- 
cause he  likes  to  be  active  or  because  he  is  fond  of  reproduc- 
ing certain  pleasant  types  of  activity  or  of  doing  new  and 
unusual  deeds,  but  also  because  he  takes  delight  in  the  prod- 
uct of  his  play.  More  and  more  the  game  is  becoming  a  means 
to  an  end,  —  an  activity  pleasurable  largely  because  from  it 
emanate  certain  desirable,  perhaps  even  tangible,  results. 

The  same  transition  from  interest  in  mere  activity  to  interest 
in  the  form  and,  finally,  in  the  outcome  of  this  activity  is  seen 


Play 


in  the  development  of  social  games.  They  may  be  classified 
into  (i)  simple  activities  of  social  intercourse;  (2)  aesthetic 
games  involving  social  organization;  (3)  dramatic  games; 
(4)  games  of  individual  rivalry;  (5)  games  of  group  competition. 

By  simple  activities  of  social  intercourse  is  meant  such  mere 
impulsive  sports  as  please,  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  activity 
itself,  but  also  because  others  share  in  it.  To  run,  jump, 
climb,  throw  things  about,  etc.,  are  more  pleasant  when 
others  are  participating  than  when  alone.  The  instinctive 
love  of  social  interplay,  of  expression  and  response,  the  nerv- 
ous stimulus  that  comes  from  living  presences,  enter  in  to 
enhance  the  attractiveness  of  any  activity  that  involves  social 
intercourse.  Often  such  sport  takes  the  instinctive  form  of 
physical  combat  of  some  sort,  even  when  there  is  no  sense 
of  rivalry,  as  when  the  little  child  engages  in  mimic  struggle 
with  an  elder  person.  The  result  is  here  of  no  importance. 
The  interest  lies  in  the  instinctive  activity,  which  is  pleasant 
in  itself. 

Similarly,  when  we  pass  to  the  aesthetic  games  involving 
social  organization,  we  find  that  social  intercourse  heightens 
the  interest  and  increases  the  possibilities.  Children  may 
arrange  themselves  in  a  form  that  has  aesthetic  value.  Ring 
games  are  almost  without  number.  Social  cooperation  adds 
greatly  to  the  number  of  possible  devices  in  the  way  of  rhythm, 
or  song,  or  rule  of  procedure.  Games  become  complicated, 
and  the  children  are  able  to  play  the  more  elaborate  forms  be- 
cause cooperation  supports  the  memory  for  details  that  would 
be  too  great  a  strain  on  the  individual,  and  because  social 
interplay  sustains  interest  when  that  in  mere  aesthetic  form 
might  flag.  At  first,  these  games  appeal  to  social  instincts 
less  fierce  than  that  of  rivalry.  This  factor,  however,  creeps 
in  at  an  early  date,  although  it  does  not  become  a  predominat- 
ing interest  until  at  least  as  late  as  the  seventh  year. 


Classes  of 
social 
games 


(i)  Simple  in- 
stinctive 
social  ac- 
tivities. 
Social  in- 
tercourse 
as  intensi- 
fying in- 
terest ; 


(2)  social 
aesthetic 
games ; 


392 


Principles  of  Education 


(3)  games  of 


Practically  all  except  the  simplest  games  of  children  are 
believe"  learned  by  imitation.  Those  in  which  adult  activities  are 
interest  in  mimicked  may,  perhaps,  be  called  dramatic  games  and  re- 
form ;  garded  as  a  distinct  group.  Playing  with  dolls,  playing  horse, 
playing  Indian,  etc.,  illustrate  a  type  of  activity  that  appears 
in  endless  variety.  There  is  no  thought  of  valuable  conse- 
quences from  the  activity  involved.  The  life  of  men  and 
women  evokes  the  aesthetic  admiration  of  the  child  because 
it  appeals  to  the  developing  instincts  of  boy  or  girl.  The 
game  is  really  one  of  aesthetic  interest,  but  it  gains  a  peculiarly 
social  character  because  the  child  finds  in  the  life  of  older 
people  a  more  satisfactory  expression  of  his  nature  than  in 
activities  which  he  can  imitate  without  much  strain  on  his 
powers  of  make-believe.  The  desire  to  be  and  to  do  as  the 
highest  standards  of  society  suggest  is  here  intensely  felt. 
Such  games  are  not  dramatic  in  the  sense  that  the  players 
strive  to  appeal  to  an  audience.  Perhaps  a  more  appropriate 
name  for  them  might  be  games  of  "make-believe,"  for  the  in- 
terest, whenever  it  can  be  said  to  be  more  than  pleasure  in 
variant  types  of  activity,  lies  wholly  in  the  sense  of  identifica- 
tion with  some  admired  phase  of  life. 

The  interest  in  the  form  of  the  sport  reaches  its  climax  in 
these  games  of  "make-believe,"  which  constitute  perhaps  the 
most  common  type  of  play  of  children  between  the  ages  of 
four  and  ten.  Eventually,  the  interest  ceases  to  depend 
mainly  on  the  fact  that  the  game  reproduces  a  social  model 
which  is  admired,  and  comes  to  lie  in  the  opportunity  that  the 
game  affords  for  that  fascinating  form  of  social  intercourse, 
rivalry.  At  first,  the  rivalries  of  children  are  passive  affairs. 
In  the  earlier  games  competition  appears  in  eagerness  to  be 
selected  in  preference  to  others  to  play  a  special  part  in  the 
game.  The  children  may  appeal  for  such  a  favorite  role  by 
entreaties,  cajolery,  or  complaint,  but  there  is  no  active 


(4)  games 


results; 


Play  393 

endeavor  to  win  the  prize  of  victory  by  excelling  in  some  ac- 
tivity. It  is  this  latter  trait  that  characterizes  the  later  games 
of  rivalry,  the  approved  forms  of  which  are  adapted  by  a 
long  process  of  selection  to  bring  into  the  most  vigorous  con- 
test the  leading  functions  of  the  individual. 

Finally,  we  have  the  games  of  group  contest.  Here  rivalry  (S)  games 
becomes,  in  part  at  least,  subordinated  to  devotion  to  the  com- 
mon interest  of  the  side  or  team  or  whatever  the  social  unit 
may  be  denominated.  It  is  more  fascinating  to  play  with  a 
side  and  lose  than  to  play  as  an  individual  and  win.  In  these 
group  contests  nearly  all  the  instincts  of  the  individual  are 
called  into  operation.  The  love  of  activity,  the  aesthetic  in- 
terest in  harmonious  and  familiar  organization  and  in  playing 
according  to  rule,  the  instincts  of  sociability,  rivalry,  coop- 
erativeness,  and  leadership,  all  come  into  play.  Such  games 
constitute  the  great  passions  of  youth,  and  even  the  adult  feels 
their  compelling  fascinations. 

Up  to  the  time  when  the  motive  of  rivalry  becomes  promi-  Effect  of 
nent,  the  plays  of  the  child  have  resulted  principally  in  ex-  rivaio/on 
pansion  of  resources  rather  than  in  growth  of  judgment.  His  judgment 
potentialities  in  action  have  been  exploited,  experience  has 
been  accumulated,  imagination  fed  and  stimulated.  The 
process  of  selecting  that  which  is  most  appropriate,  most 
pleasing,  fittest  among  these  accumulating  resources  has  been 
going  on,  but  there  has  been  no  insistent  emphasis  upon  it,  so 
far  as  the  playful  activities  are  concerned.  In  this  field  of 
sport,  as  long  as  the  interests  of  older  people  have  not  been 
crossed,  compulsion  has  not  interfered  with  the  taste  or  caprice 
of  the  child.  This  freedom  suffers  a  serious  check  when 
rivalry  becomes  dominant  in  the  game.  Competition  banishes 
all  activity  that  is  not  effective  in  winning.  It  checks  the 
exuberance  of  the  imagination,  confining  it  to  the  true  or,  at 
any  rate,  the  approved.  The  child's  constructions  must  now 


394  Principles  of  Education 

be  limited  to  that  which  possesses  excellence,  and  the  adult 
model  is  no  longer  merely  an  invitation  to  activity,  but  a 
command  that  this  activity  shall  be  good.  The  struggle  to 
conform,  felt  hitherto  in  the  serious  relations  of  life,  is  trans- 
ferred to  the  games.  Here  it  becomes  fierce  and  overwhelm- 
ing, for  only  through  conformity  can  the  child  attain  the 
prizes  for  which  his  fellows  in  society  are  contending.  The 
will  of  the  elders  he  may  cajole  or  deceive.  He  may  even  rebel 
against  it,  with  hope  of  pardon  or  of  compensating  advantages. 
But  the  outcome  of  a  struggle  with  his  peers  means  success  or 
failure,  without  hope  of  reversal  or  compensation.  His  play- 
mates will  not  "baby"  him.  Thus  the  age  when  games  of 
rivalry  begin  to  predominate  is  an  age  in  which  the  child  feels 
the  pressure  of  the  standards  of  society  as  never  before,  and 
under  this  coercion  the  exuberant  products  of  his  free  activ- 
ity are  subjected  to  sharp  criticism  and  selection.  On  the 
one  hand,  the  developing  judgment  of  the  child  makes  him 
aware  that  in  society  the  most  positive  way  to  succeed  is  to 
excel.  On  the  other,  the  rise  of  the  instinct  of  rivalry  sharpens 
his  judgment  to  distinguish  the  social  demands  conformity 
to  which  means  success. 

The  age  of  It  is  impossible  to  map  out  childhood  into  sharply  denned 
epochs.  Nevertheless,  the  period  between  eight  and  ado- 
lescence may  not  inappropriately  be  called  the  age  of  rivalry. 
During  this  time  the  child  is  rapidly  assimilating  the  social 
standards  by  which  he  can  determine  the  true,  the  right,  the 
effective.  As  he  goes  on  toward  adolescence,  he  discovers 
that  different  people,  different  social  groups,  have  different 
standards.  Just  as  the  growth  of  a  sense  of  standards  gave 
rise  to  a  sharp  struggle  for  existence  and  selection  of  the  ear- 
lier crude  spontaneous  products  of  body  and  mind,  so  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  ideals  gives  rise  to  a  struggle  for  existence.  But 
while  in  the  earlier  struggle  it  was  the  products  of  inner  spon- 


Play  395 

taneity  that  were  subjected  to  selection  by  externally  im- 
posed standards,  here  these  external  criteria  are  in  turn  sub- 
jected to  selection  by  the  standard  of  inward  approval.  Hence  The  age  of  in- 
this  new  judgment  seems,  at  any  rate  to  the  youth,  like  an 
act  of  independent  choice.  He  feels  himself  a  factor  in  de- 
termining those  very  criteria  the  weight  of  which  has  been  so 
heavy  upon  his  freedom.  At  adolescence,  when  physiological 
changes  complete  the  physical  equipment  of  the  adult,  the  in- 
tellectual changes  meet  this  advance  by  introducing  the  in- 
dependent spirit  of  the  mature  and  responsible  contributor  to 
social  interplay. 

This  ethical  independence  is  partly  a  result  of  the  games  of  Ethical  inde- 
contest  between  groups,  and  partly  it  produces  them.  In  ^d  games 
such  sports  the  mutual  dependence  of  members  of  a  side  makes  of  S^P 

.  contest 

all  of  importance.  The  continuity  and  success  of  the  game 
depends  upon  the  willing  cooperation  of  all,  and  each  plays 
his  part  in  determining  the  conditions  without  which  his 
cooperation  cannot  be  obtained.  Thus  the  individual  as- 
sumes the  position  of  one  who  helps  to  form  the  standards  to 
which  all  conform.  He  becomes,  in  effect,  an  independent 
element  as  well  as  a  dependent  one.  The  conditions  that 
make  each  dependent  on  all  make  all  dependent  on  each,  and 
in  such  activities  a  larger  independence  arises.  The  games 
which  foster  this  attitude  are  logically  the  games  that  suit  the 
child  who  is  passing  out  of  the  age  of  rivalry  into  what  may 
be  called  an  age  of  independence. 

If  the  games  of  contest  between  sides  lead  into  ethical  and  Games  lead- 
social  manhood,  the  constructive  and  dramatic  games  lead 
up  to  vocational  manhood.  However,  before  this  last  result 
is  attained  a  long  apprenticeship  of  training  that  is  distinctly 
work  is  ordinarily  necessary.  Hence  the  free  spirit  is  lost. 
The  virtues  of  industry  and  self-control  rather  than  those  of 
courage,  independence,  tact,  loyalty,  and  command  are  cul- 


396 


Principles  of  Education 


tivated.  In  a  general  way,  the  fundamental  service  of  work 
in  education  is  to  cultivate  the  power  of  manipulating  materials 
rather  than  men. 

Summary  it  is  evident,  then,  that  the  games  of  childhood  lead  up 

from  the  simple  love  of  activity  to  which  they  at  first  appeal, 
to  interest  in  aesthetic  form,  and  from  thence  to  a  keen  appre- 
ciation of  those  standards  and  ideals  that  constitute  the  mo- 
tives in  the  life  of  a  civilized  society.  Promoting  at  first  the 
development  of  physical  control  and  of  experience,  they  later 
turn  to  the  task  of  fostering  the  imagination  and,  finally,  the 
judgment.  Through  their  appeal  to  the  sense  of  rivalry,  they 
enable  the  coercion  of  the  child  by  the  social  standards. 
Through  their  appeal  to  the  instinct  of  cooperation,  they  en- 
courage the  child  to  choose  his  own  standards,  tastes,  ideals. 
Since  they  are  for  the  most  part  social,  they  cultivate  espe- 
cially the  social  virtues  and  aptitudes.  Since  society  is  the 
common  master  that  all  vocations  serve,  they  introduce  us  to 
the  motives  that  lie  behind  the  vocations.  However,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  even  in  the  dramatic  and  constructive  games 
we  find  in  play  alone  no  introduction  to  the  vocation  itself. 


portance 
of  social 
training 


SECTION  45.     The  game  in  the  history  of  education 

Uses  of  play  A  sketch  of  the  part  played  by  the  game  in  the  history  of 
mala.  Im-  education  will  afford  some  suggestions  as  to  its  educational 
value.  In  the  life  of  animals  play  finds  two  functions  :  first, 
that  of  strengthening  and  maturing  the  instinctive  acts,  and 
of  building  up  a  body  of  experience  concerning  both  their 
relative  value  in  the  service  of  the  instincts  and  the  details  of 
their  use  ;  second,  that  of  social  training.  These  two  uses  are 
fundamentally  the  same,  for  social  development  is  founded 
upon  instinct,  yet  even  in  animals  the  social  training  derived 
from  play  is  so  important  as  to  deserve  to  be  separated  from 


Play  397 

the  effect  of  this  activity  on  the  other  instincts.  The  instinc- 
tive friendships  and  hostilities  of  the  brutes,  their  methods  of 
cooperation  and  of  combat,  are  extensively  affected  by  ex- 
perience. It  is  here  that  education  is  peculiarly  important, 
for,  as  we  have  seen,  a  social  environment  consists  of  read- 
justing individuals,  and  hence  nature  needs  help  from  nurture 
in  order  to  keep  pace  with  the  demands  either  of  competition 
or  of  cooperation.  In  a  general  way,  infancy,  capacity  for 
education,  playfulness,  and  ability  to  deal  with  social  condi- 
tions go  together.  The  plays  of  animals  are  largely  social  in 
character. 

With  primitive  men  play,  supplemented  by  severe  negative  Play  as  the 
discipline,  such  as  reaches  its  culmination  in  the  exercises  of 


adolescence.1  affords  nearly,  if  not  quite,  all  the  education,      primitive 

*  education 

The  power  to  work  is  not  markedly  developed.  The  rude 
forms  of  skill  that  are  possessed  can  frequently  be  learned  by 
imitative  play.  Important  as  are  the  construction  of  shelter, 
the  making  of  clothing,  the  use  of  fire,  tools,  etc.,  man  can  ac- 
quire these  arts  very  easily,  and  civilization  is  well  advanced 
before  they  demand  any  elaborate  apprenticeship.  On  the 
other  hand,  social  organization,  involving  language  and  polit- 
ical and  religious  institutions,  together  with  a  mass  of  common 
usages,  presents  even  to  primitive  man  an  enormous  quantity 
of  material  to  be  mastered  by  the  learner.  However,  all  this 
material  can  readily  be  embodied  in  activities  that  are  essen- 
tially playful.  Until  written  language  appears,  there  is  little 
need  that  liberal  education  should  involve  much  genuine  work. 

The  association  of  the  game  with  religious  ceremonial  is  an  Association 
interesting  feature  of  its  early  history.     Whenever  the  members 
of  a  tribe  assemble  for  a  common  purpose,  they  are  apt  to 
celebrate  the  occasion  by  games,  which  are  usually  prescribed 
by  religious  custom  and  infused  with  religious  feeling.     Stated 

1  Compare  §  13. 


398  Principles  of  Education 

festivals  in  honor  of  certain  deities,  the  celebration  of  births  or 
marriages,  funeral  ceremonial,  the  visit  of  an  ambassador,  the 

Reasons  for  initiation  or  conclusion  of  some  important  tribal  enterprise, 
as  war  or  the  hunt  or  migration,  —  all  involve  games.  It  is 
evident  that  they  have  a  value  which  is  closely  associated 
with  that  of  religion.  They  infuse  the  group  with  a  common 
spirit  and  aim,  and  hence  like  religion  they  are  a  most  impor- 
tant agency  in  social  control.  The  game  assists  religion  in  its 
work  of  socialization  by  presenting  it  in  forms  that  are  attrac- 
tive and  that  involve  vigorous  social  interplay.  On  the  other 
hand,  religion  solemnizes  the  game  and  strengthens  its  hold  on 
humanity,  converting  it  from  a  diversion  into  an  institution. 

One  other  common  feature  makes  the  union  of  the  game 
and  of  religious  ceremonial  easy  and  natural.  The  form  of 
both  is  freely  chosen,  and  no  imposed  by  an  evident  utility 
in  the  accomplishment  of  certain  definite  results.  Religious 
worship  is,  it  is  true,  among  primitive  men  intended  to  secure 
the  favor  or  to  ward  off  the  hostility  of  the  supernatural  powers. 
However,  one  ceremonial  is  as  good  as  another,  so  long  as  it 
satisfies  the  popular  notion  of  what  the  gods  want.  The 
ultimate  standards  that  determine  the  survival  of  this  or  that 
custom  of  worship  can  only  be  the  values  it  possesses  for 
strengthening  society,  on  the  one  hand,  and  for  pleasing  the 
aesthetic  taste  of  the  individual,  on  the  other.  These  same 
criteria  determine  the  form  of  the  game.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  art,  which  is  a  child  of  the  spirit  of  play  and  that  of 
religion,  is  a  strange  compound  of  the  lightness  and  the  freedom 
of  the  one  and  the  profound  seriousness  of  the  other,  while  it 
justifies  itself,  as  do  both,  by  its  value  as  an  agency  for  social 
culture  and  for  aesthetic  delight. 

Play  in  When  one  speaks  of  the  history  of  the  educational  use  of 

Greek  edu-  ^g  game    thought  inevitably  turns  to  the   Greeks.     More 

cation  J  .  ... 

than  any  other  people  they  utilized  this  form  of  activity  in 


Play  399 

the  training  of  the  young.  The  school  life  of  the  Athenian  or 
Spartan  child  of  from  six  to  sixteen  years  of  age  was  during 
the  earlier  periods  of  the  history  of  these  states  little  else 
than  organized  and  supervised  play.  Through  such  means 
they  gained  their  physical  culture  and  their  training  in  music. 
The  control  of  the  games  by  adults  made  them  somewhat 
strenuous.  The  social  premium  upon  success  was  sufficiently 
great  to  make  the  game  involve  much  work,  and  often  to  seem, 
as  a  whole,  work  rather  than  play.  Nevertheless,  the  life 
of  the  school  was  in  a  peculiar  sense  an  end  in  itself.  The 
conception  of  preparation  for  adult  life  is  almost  thrust  out 
of  sight  by  the  absorption  in  the  activity  of  the  moment. 
Moreover,  this  activity  was  largely  in  forms  that  children 
employ  in  play.  Indeed,  in  so  far  as  the  old  Greek  education 
prepared  for  the  future,  it  did  this  in  ways  that  were  equally 
valuable  for  present  uses  in  the  life  of  the  school. 

The  reasons  for  this  are  easily  to  be  found.  They  lie  in  the  Reasons  for 
nature  of  the  Greek  civilization  and  character.  It  will  be 
noted  that  in  the  adult  activities  of  the  Greek  the  game  played 
an  unusually  important  part.  It  is  probably  not  far  from 
accurate  to  say  that  the  public  games  were  the  most  character- 
istic national  institution  of  the  Greeks,  just  as  the  character- 
istic form  of  Greek  worship  was  a  sort  of  aesthetic  revelry. 
The  games  of  the  school  life  prepared,  therefore,  with 
directness  for  an  important  phase  of  adult  activity.  But 
back  of  the  emphasis  of  the  game  both  in  the  school  and  in  the 
life  of  men  lay  the  fundamental  social  and  liberty-loving  nature 
of  the  Greek.  These  two  traits  of  character  are  reflected  in 
his  civilization.  The  city-state  of  historic  times  constituted 
a  little  community  of  free  men,  who  lived  in  close  proximity, 
and  who  devoted  themselves  to  war,  politics,  and  social  life, 
while  their  slaves  did  the  manual  work.  That  for  which  the 
free  child  needed  to  prepare  was  not  a  specialized  vocation, 


400 


Principles  of  Education 


The  higher 
learning 
and  the 
disappear- 
ance of 
play  from 
the  edu- 
cation of 
leaders, 


but  rather  independent  social  activity.  As  a  fitting  education 
for  the  latter  he  served  an  apprenticeship  in  the  free  life  of  the 
school,  where  tradition  was  poetry,  and  wisdom  the  knowledge 
of  men.  For  the  training  of  an  aristocracy  of  free  men  the 
game  has  the  great  advantages  of  giving  each  a  chance  to  par- 
ticipate in  leadership  and  of  compelling  the  leader  to  rely 
for  his  support  upon  the  free  consent  of  all  rather  than  upon 
blind  custom  or  terror.  It  may  be  laid  down  as  a  fairly  uni- 
versal principle  that  all  free  aristocracies  emphasize  especially 
play  as  an  educational  agency.  Such  a  principle  is  exemplified 
in  the  education  of  the  Persians,  of  the  medieval  knights,  of 
the  later  German  aristocracy  in  the  Ritterakademien,  and  of 
the  English  aristocracy  of  to-day  in  the  Public  School. 

The  development  of  written  language  is  primarily  respon- 
sible for  the  loss  on  the  part  of  the  game  of  relative  importance 
in  free  aristocratic  education.  This  instrumentality  becomes 
so  important  an  adjunct  of  all  phases  of  political  and  social 
activity  as  to  make  literacy  and  some  degree  of  learning  a 
source  of  power,  a  badge  of  distinction,  an  indispensable 
acquisition  for  any  who  would  make  themselves  influential. 
The  aristocrat  must  needs  master  such  philosophy  and  science, 
such  law  and  history  as  gives  him  a  grip  on  the  institutions 
and  the  society  in  which  he  is  supposed  to  be  a  dominant  force. 
When  grammar,  rhetoric,  and  logic  add  their  resources  to  the 
art  of  oratory  it  becomes  necessary  for  the  statesman  to  go 
through  a  prolonged  linguistic  training.  To  acquire  this 
body  of  learning  and  this  linguistic  skill  persistent  effort  on 
matters  that  look  toward  future  efficiency  rather  than  toward 
immediate  returns  to  the  child  becomes  necessary.  To  insure 
this  effort  the  factor  of  coercion  becomes  more  prominent  in 
education.  The  school  becomes  a  place  of  tasks  and  of  punish- 
ment, and  the  symbol  of  the  rod  comes  to  indicate  the  school- 
master. That  sharp  discipline  that  hitherto  was  employed 


Play 


401 


only  to  inspire  the  proper  regard  for  social  ideals,  as  in  the 
adolescent  exercises,  is  transferred  to  the  laborious  task  of 
acquiring  learning. 

The  accumulation  of  learning  means  not  only  more  laborious 
education  for  those  who  would  become  social  and  political 
leaders,  but  it  also  creates  a  new  ideal  of  life.  Men  come  to 
feel  that  the  life  of  culture  is  worth  while  for  its  own  sake. 
Scholarship,  philosophy,  and  poetry  become  cultivated,  not 
merely  as  adjuncts  of  social  and  political  efficiency,  but  as 
constituting  the  ideal  pursuits  of  man.  The  leisure  class  comes 
under  the  spell  of  the  learned  ideal,  according  to  which  the 
highest  end  of  all  endeavor  is  to  know,  or  the  ideal  of  the  artist, 
who  gives  himself  wholly  to  creating  and  enjoying  the  beautiful. 
The  endeavor  to  pursue  those  ideals  involves  a  large  labor  of 
preparation,  which  the  school  has  historically  not  given  in  the 
form  of  the  game. 

Especially  did  the  learned  ideal  tend  to  eliminate  the  game 
from  the  school.  For  it  is  not  strongly  social  in  character, 
and,  since  the  game  finds  its  leading  value  in  developing  social 
aptitude,  the  man  who  looks  to  knowledge  for  its  own  sake 
as  the  end  of  living  is  apt  to  discredit  an  agency  that  distracts 
from  his  absorbing  pursuit  and  cultivates  qualities  that  to  him 
have  no  essential  value.  This  tendency  on  the  part  of  those 
who  represented  the  learned  ideal  appeared  among  the  ancients 
in  their  philosophic  schools,  and  became  further  emphasized 
by  Christianity.  For  Christianity  not  only  sanctioned  the 
tendency  to  pursue  learning,  giving  it  a  religious  interpreta- 
tion, but  it  also,  finding  the  goal  of  this  life  in  the  life  to  come, 
made  salvation  in  that  other  world  depend  on  a  discipline 
that  had  no  reference  to  earthly  efficiencies,  unless  we  except 
moral  ones.  Even  the  moral  virtues  that  it  exalted  were 
largely  negative,  the  only  important  positive  one  being  that 
of  an  indiscriminate  and  unscientific  charity.  Thus  the  indi- 

2  i) 


from  edu- 
cation for 
leisure 


The  game  an- 
tagonized 
by  non- 
social  and 
ascetic  ten- 
dencies 


402 


Principles  of  Education 


vidual  was  thrown  back  upon  himself.  The  inner  life,  to 
which  he  and  God  alone  had  direct  access,  became  the  all- 
absorbing  drama  that  seized  his  attention.  He  had  little  use 
for  play,  which  makes  us  worldly  and  cultivates  a  social  effi- 
ciency that  has  no  relation  to  the  soul's  salvation.  Hence 
the  hermit,  the  solitary  cell,  the  vows  to  silence.  In  such 
practices  they  strove  to  assure  to  the  soul  its  chance  to  grow 
up  into  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  into  immortality. 

When  we  add  to  the  individualism  of  the  learned  ideal  and 
of  the  medieval  Christian  conception  of  salvation  the  asceticism 
that  came  from  the  supreme  valuation  of  the  spiritual  and  the 
fear  of  the  contamination  of  the  earthly,  we  have  an  array 
of  forces  before  which  the  game  went  down  as  a  factor  in  edu- 
cation. It  was  seductively  pleasant,  worldly,  social.  The 
spirit  of  the  time  feared  all  these  qualities.  The  military 
aristocracy  of  the  Middle  Ages  developed  from  primitive 
forms  an  education  of  games,  infusing  it  with  Christian  ele- 
ments, but  learned  education  has  waited  until  modern  times 
for  any  adequate  recognition  of  the  value  of  play. 

The  causes  for  this  revival  of  the  game  as  a  factor  in  con- 
sci°usly  controlled  education  may  be  summed  up  under  three 
game  in  heads:  (i)  the  recognition  of  the  importance  of  interest  as  a 
education,  feature  of  educational  method;  (2)  systematic  training  of 
(i)  Neces-  veryyoung  children;  (3)  a  larger  conception  of  the  scope  and 
function  of  the  school.  We  shall  consider  these  factors  in 
order,  (i)  The  emphasis  upon  interest  was  due  to  a  constantly 
increasing  sense  of  the  barrenness  of  school  work  so  long  as  the 
motivation  was  left  to  take  care  of  itself,  or  limited  to  com- 
pulsion. The  coercive  resources  of  the  master  failed  to  keep 
pace  with  the  drudgery  of  the  school.  The  Renaissance  made 
literary  education  quite  common  for  the  upper  classes.  But, 
given  as  it  was  in  the  ancient  tongues,  it  required  long  labors. 
Many  teachers  found  that  these  could  occasionally  be  lightened 


Reasons  for 


Play  •  403 

by  the  introduction  of  games.  Thus  the  Jesuits  employed 
concertations  for  the  same  reason  that  old-fashioned  country 
schoolmasters  used  spelling  matches,  and  modern  ones  may 
use  card  games  to  teach  arithmetic.  The  work  of  the  school 
was  put  in  the  form  of  a  game  of  rivalry. 

It  is,  perhaps,  due  to  Rousseau  more  than  to  any  other  man  Rousseau  and 
that  modern  education  feels  the  necessity  of  interest.  His 
revolutionary  protest  against  the  arbitrary  enslaving  educa- 
tion of  his  time  may  be  regarded  as  the  great  "Bill  of  Rights" 
of  the  child,  a  proclamation  that  has  come  to  have  universal 
acceptance  to-day,  not  because  we  entertain  his  extravagant 
notions  of  the  perfect  nature  of  the  child,  nor  even  because  of 
our  eagerness  to  yield  to  the  child  his  rights,  although  this 
feeling  is,  to  say  the  least,  pronounced,  but  rather  because  we 
feel  that  without  interest  we  fail  to  get  satisfactory  results 
for  the  time  and  effort  spent  in  teaching.  The  educational 
platform  of  Rousseau  would  justify  play  as  practically  the 
sole  method  of  education.  Hence  Basedow,  the  follower  of 
Rousseau,  utilized  it  freely  in  his  Philanthropinum. 

The  critics  of  educational  reform  have  often  identified  the  Play  not  the 
program  of  interesting  the  child  with  a  transformation  of  school 
activity  into  play.  Such  a  belief  is  unwarranted.  The  em- 
phasis on  interest  leads  to  the  introduction  of  play,  but  it  does 
not  follow  that  only  through  the  game  can  the  work  of  the 
school  be  made  interesting.  The  Herbartians  make  interest 
the  foundation  of  method,  but  they  have  never  regarded  play 
as  the  only,  or  even  the  leading,  phase  of  school  activity. 

(2)  The  development  of  systematic  school  training  for  very  (2)  System- 
young  children  makes  the  use  of  the  form  of  play  in  school     ^  io^ 

work  practically  inevitable.     On  the  one  hand,  their  lack  of      young  chil- 
dren and 
experience  makes  it  difficult  or  impossible  to  invoke  any  motives      piay 

save  those  of  play  or  of  arbitrary  coercion,  and,  on  the  other, 
the  play  motive  seems  adequate  to  secure  such  persistent 


404  Principles  of  Education 

effort  as  the  child  is  at  that  age  capable  of  putting  forth. 

Controlled  Nevertheless,  the  kindergarten,  as  Froebel  conceived  it,  and 
as  it  is  conducted  by  the  best  of  his  disciples,  is  not  a  place  for 
mere  uncontrolled  play.  Frcebel  was  far  from  agreeing  with 
Rousseau  that  a  child  would  develop  himself  properly  under 
the  stimulus  of  his  own  spontaneous  impulses.  The  prescrip- 
tive and  the  mandatory  elements  in  education  are,  indeed, 
proscribed  by  Froebel.  They  reappear,  however,  in  the  form 
of  a  negative  control  that  he  advocates.  The  teacher  must 
everywhere  consult  the  spontaneity  of  the  child,  but  when 
these  budding  tendencies  lead  into  dangerous  directions, 
there  must  be,  he  maintains,  an  unhesitating  repression,  and 
the  discipline  of  natural  consequences  is  to  be  supplemented 
very  materially  by  arbitrary  condemnations  and  punishments 
meted  out  by  those  who  have  the  child  in  charge.  Thus  the 
Frcebelians  advocate,  not  purely  spontaneous,  but  rather 
controlled,  play.  > 

(3)  The  (3)  The  third  influence  leading  to  the  modern  revival  of 

catbn  and"  P^Y  as  a  factor  in  education  is  the  growth  of  a  larger  concep- 


tion  of  the  scope  and  function  of  the  school.  From  being 
simply  an  institution  to  teach  literacy  and  to  transmit  the 
content  of  learning,  it  has  come,  owing  to  the  development 
of  democracy,  to  concern  itself  with  civic  training,  with  voca- 
tional training,  with  health,  and,  indeed,  with  all  that  tends  to 
make  the  individual  more  efficient  and  more  happy.  Many 
of  these  larger  aims  can  be  very  directly  reached  through  edu- 
cation by  play.  This  is  especially  evident  in  the  case  of  health. 
It  is  interesting  to  note  that  physical  culture  is  more  and  more 
betaking  itself  to  play,  as  a  better  method  of  getting  results 
than  the  earlier  routine  gymnasium  work.  Moreover,  the 
schools  of  the  people  are  beginning  to  recognize,  as  the  schools 
of  the  aristocracy  have  always  done,  the  importance  of  student 
social  life  as  an  agency  in  the  larger  preparation  of  the  youth 


Play  405 

for  his  future.  We  are  coming  to  feel  that  clubs,  societies,  and 
student  enterprises  of  all  sorts  are  not  to  be  regarded  simply 
as  incidents  to  the  school  life,  of  no  concern  to  the  school 
authorities,  save  as  by  their  excesses  they  create  problems  of 
repression.  On  the  contrary,  they  constitute  a  phase  of  school 
activity  quite  as  important  as  that  central  core  of  systematic 
studies  upon  which  hitherto  so  exclusive  an  emphasis  has  been 
placed. 

In  resume,  we  note  that  throughout  history  the  game  has  Summary 
been  intimately  associated  with  the  ethical  and  social  educa- 
tion of  men.  In  this  service  it  has  allied  itself  with  religion. 
It  is  a  form  of  education  that  has  been  especially  prominent 
in  the  culture  of  free  aristocracies.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
evolution  of  craftsmanship  has  involved  the  development  of 
apprenticeship  or  of  vocational  education  through  work. 
The  development  of  written  language  and  the  accumulation 
of  learning,  with  a  consequent  increase  in  the  labor  of  preparing 
for  social  and  political  efficiency,  caused  the  coercive  factor  to 
appear  in  liberal  education.  Work  appeared  at  first  incidental 
to  the  larger  play  life  of  the  school,  but  ultimately  became 
the  predominant  feature  therein.  The  growth  of  the  learned 
ideal  and  of  Christianity  practically  thrust  the  game  out  of  the 
education  of  the  school.  In  modern  times  it  has  again  come 
forward  as  a  means  of  making  school  work  interesting,  partic- 
ularly to  young  children,  and  as  the  natural  method  of  culti- 
vating the  health  and  the  civic  and  social  efficiency  that  have 
come  to  be  such  important  factors  in  the  aim  of  education. 

SECTION  46.    Play  in  the  education  of  the  future 

The  function  of  play  in  education  may  be  regarded  as  one 
of  the  unsettled  questions.  Schoolmasters  are  still  divided 
both  in  their  theory  and  in  their  practice.  On  the  one  hand, 


406 


Principles  of  Education 


Two  views  as 
to  the 
proper  at- 
titude of 
the  school 
toward 
play 


Abandon- 
ment of 
play  by 
both  voca- 
tional and 
liberal  edu- 
cation 


we  have  these  who,  inclining  toward  the  theory  of  Rousseau 
and  Groos  and  the  practice  of  Frcebel,  are  wont  to  advocate 
a  general  transformation  of  school  work  into  play.  In  such 
activity,  they  think,  Nature  has  provided  a  "royal  road"  to 
that  which  has  in  the  past  cost  many  pains  and  tears. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  those  who,  without  going  to  the 
extremes  of  asceticism,  regard  play  as  not  only  incapable  of 
preparing  for  efficient  living,  but  as  an  activity  against  which 
the  school  that  does  good  work  must  be  constantly  at  war. 
They  note  that  the  power  which  separates  the  savage  from 
the  civilized  man,  the  ne'er-do-well  without  capacity  for  sus- 
tained effort  in  any  field  from  the  man  of  effective  energy, 
is  capacity  to  bring  his  spontaneous  impulses  under  the  control 
of  a  coercive  purpose,  to  work.  They  are  convinced  that 
extensive  indulgence  in  play  will  impair  the  power  of  self-con- 
trol necessary  for  persistent  labor.  Many  doubt  whether 
play  possesses  any  educational  values  that  are  not  to  be  gained 
by  the  far  more  helpful  and  far  less  demoralizing  activity  of 
work.  Hence,  schools  have  on  the  whole  discouraged  the  play 
spirit,  and  have  striven  to  interpenetrate  their  activity  with 
the  serious,  coercive,  and  remote  aim  of  education.  Play 
has  been  tolerated  only  because  it  could  not  be  entirely  sup- 
pressed. The  margin  of  time  for  such  free  activity  has  been 
cut  down  to  that  minimum  beyond  which  it  would  seem  that 
coercion  cannot  go.  Or,  if  a  more  liberal  view  prevailed,  it 
was  held  that  play  might  be  tolerated  as  a  means  of  rest  and 
recreation  in  the  breathing  places  between  the  really  serious 
labors  of  education. 

It  is  probable  that  the  view  that  disparages  play  is  not  the 
only  one  that  involves  error.  The  study  of  the  games  of 
children  and  of  the  history  of  play  as  a  factor  in  education 
suggests  that,  although  this  activity  has  extraordinary  value 
as  an  educational  agency,  it  yet  has  certain  limitations.  It 


Play  407 

is  noteworthy  that  wherever  there  has  appeared  a  form  of 
physical  or  mental  skill  the  mastery  of  which  involves  persist- 
ent effort,  there  the  game  has  been  abandoned  as  a  means  of 
preparation.  None  except  the  simplest  vocations  have  ever 
been  maintained  by  an  apprenticeship  consisting  to  any  con- 
siderable extent  of  play.  Moreover,  the  development  of 
written  language  and  a  mass  of  learning  has  placed  liberal 
education  in  a  position  in  which  it  has  not  been  able  to  trust 
its  fate  to  playful  social  intercourse,  even  when  a  measure  of 
supervision  has  been  exercised  to  curb  excesses  and  to  direct 
the  "spontaneity"  aright. 

The  believers  in  play  will  urge  that  the  reason  why  it  dis-  Criticism  of 
appears  in  these  educational  emergencies  is  not  because  it  is 
incapable  of  affording  instruction  in  any  form  of  skill,  however 
elaborate,  but  rather  because  the  schoolmasters  have  not  been 
clever  enough  to  put  their  instruction  in  its  forms.  They 
have  gone  on  trusting  to  direct  coercion  as  the  simplest  method 
of  bridging  over  any  difficulty  of  attitude  on  the  child's  part. 
But,  according  to  the  reformer,  here  as  elsewhere  the  most 
direct  route  has  not  proven  the  shortest,  and  the  school  has 
failed  of  results  for  lack  of  finesse  in  methods. 

In   the  minds  of  some  educational  reformers,   then,   play  TWO  prob- 
appears  as  the  universal  method  of  motivating  the  difficult      ^  to  the 
tasks  of  the  school.     But  this  is  only  one  phase  of  the  problem     part  of  play 

.  .  .  •  i         <•          i  •          *n  ed 

of  play  m  education.  Any  question  as  to  its  value  for  this  tion 
purpose  should  not  blind  us  to  the  fact  that  it  has  been  from 
time  immemorial  the  natural  method  of  social  and  ethical 
training,  and  that  it  possesses  peculiar  advantages  as  an  agency 
for  such  culture,  particularly  in  a  free  community.  The  en- 
deavor to  forecast  the  part  of  play  in  the  education  of  the 
future  involves,  therefore,  two  problems:  (i)  in  how  far  can 
play  be  used  to  motivate  difficult  school  work  ?  (2)  to  what 
extent  should  the  school  take  seriously  and  assume  control 


408 


Principles  of  Education 


Ambiguity 
in  the 
meaning 
of  play 


Definitions  of 
work  and 
play 


over  those  play  activities  which  originally  were  the  whole  of 
liberal  education,  although  with  the  development  of  the  more 
laborious  phases  of  culture  they  have  come  to  be  regarded  as 
subsidiary  ? 

(i)  The  love  of  play  as  a  school  motive 

Any  discussion  of  play  as  a  means  of  motivating  difficult 
tasks  is  likely  to  become  entangled  in  conflicting  conceptions 
of  its  meaning.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  we  think  of  play  as 
activity  pursued  for  its  own  sake,  then,  since  a  definition  can 
be  converted  simply,  we  must  believe  that  every  activity 
that  pleases  without  reference  to  results  is  play.  Hence  it 
would  seem  that  as  soon  as  the  tasks  of  the  school  are  made 
interesting  to  the  child  they  cease  to  be  work.  On  the  other 
hand,  some  mean  by  play  that  which  has  no  utility.  Work 
is  serious,  they  think,  but  play  has  no  value  except  that  of 
the  pleasure  one  gets  out  of  it.  On  this  view,  if  an  activity 
can  be  regarded  as  educative,  it  in  so  far  ceases  to  be  play 
and  becomes  work.  The  school,  therefore,  can  have  no  place 
for  play  in  the  proper  meaning  of  this  term. 

Both  these  notions  appear  in  everyday  discussions  of  the 
subject.  The  contradictions  that  they  involve  are,  however, 
to  be  dispelled  if  one  strives  to  discover  the  underlying  truth 
in  each  view.  We  may  admit  both  that  work  may  become  so 
interesting  as  to  fascinate  without  any  thought  of  its  utility 
and  that  play  may  gain  results  of  the  highest  utility,  yet  it  is 
possible  to  make  a  working  distinction  between  them.  The 
definitions  given  in  an  earlier  section1  may  be  taken  as  a  fairly 
logical  statement  of  the  practical  meaning  of  each.  Work 
is  activity  which,  whether  we  like  it  or  not,  we  must  enter 
upon  because  of  its  consequences.  If  the  coercion  is  not  in 

1  Compare  p.  315. 


Play  409 

the  foreground,  at  least  it  is  in  the  background.  Play,  on  the 
contrary,  whatever  its  utility,  is  felt  to  be  a  matter  of  free 
choice.  We  can  play  or  not  as  we  wish. 

With  such  a  definition  as  a  basis,  it  becomes  evident  that,  Differentia- 
if  the  play  of  the  child  becomes  suffused  with  the  sense  of  a 

child  ac- 

higher  coercive  force  that  compels  its  continuance,  even  tivity  into 
though  the  caprice  of  the  moment  would  lead  elsewhere,  it  is  work*0 
transformed  into  work.  The  early  activity  of  the  child,  which 
is  pure  play,  becomes  under  the  influence  of  the  growing  appre- 
ciation of  the  "must"  and  the  "ought"  differentiated  into 
two  parts.  The  one  has  utility  for  the  larger  purpose  of  life 
that  he  is  beginning  to  realize.  He  may  or  may  not  like  it, 
but  he  cannot  avoid  it  and  satisfy  his  judgment  and  his  con- 
science. The  other  is  not  felt  to  be  so  important,  so  inevitable. 
It  retains,  in  some  measure  at  least,  the  old  spontaneity  and 
freedom  of  the  earliest  life  of  the  child.  He  may  realize  its 
value,  yet  he  does  not  regard  it  as  necessary.  It  is  what  we 
may  very  properly  call  play,  although  we  make  many  distinc- 
tions, graduating  such  pursuits  in  relative  importance  accord- 
ing as  they  seem  to  bear  on  the  more  serious  phases  of  life  and 
involve  a  greater  or  less  amount  of  incidental  work. 

The  school  would  seem  to  find  it  necessary  to  recognize  Needofcui- 
this  distinction  between  work  and  play,  instead  of  striving          >tgin£.t 
to  obliterate  it.    An  attempt  to  motivate  school  work  by     of  work 
turning  it  quite  generally  into  play  would  seem  to  fail  of  intro- 
ducing the  child  into  an  appreciation  of  the  fundamental 
values  that  drive  civilized  man  to  work.     Among  the  attitudes 
that  it  is  especially  important  that  the  school  should  cultivate 
in  the  pupil  is  that  of  submitting  himself  to  the  patient  indus- 
try, the  persevering  effort,  that  make  up  what  we  may  call  the 
spirit  of  work.     The  school  life  of  the  child  should  naturally, 
but  inevitably,  introduce  him  into  the  distinction  between  the 
vocation  and  the  avocation.     It  should  teach  him  to  love  his 


410  Principles  of  Education 

work,  it  is  true,  but  not  by  turning  it  into  something  which  is 
not  a  genuine  task. 

Coercive  in-  At  this  point  the  objection  may  be  made  that  not  even  so 
ton  Cpiay  radical  an  advocate  of  the  spontaneity  of  the  child  as  Rousseau 
into  work  nas  ever  held  that  he  should  be  continually  shielded  against 
the  coercive  necessities  which  stimulate  to  work.  To  argue 
that  the  school  should  teach  children  to  work  is  to  waste  words, 
for  no  one  seriously  thinks  otherwise.  Nevertheless,  it  will 
be  admitted  that  the  attempt  to  motivate  school  work  by 
giving  it  the  form  of  play  has  been  and  still  is  one  of  the  com- 
monest of  the  manifestations  of  the  spirit  of  reform.  The 
reformers  themselves  never  make  the  mistake  of  supposing 
that  the  child  is  to  be  permitted  to  retain  the  play  attitude. 
He  is  to  be  interested  in  the  work  because  it  seems  like  play, 
but,  if  interest  lags,  he  must  be  compelled  to  play.  Such 
coercion  may  well  cause  the  child  to  feel  that  the  play  form  is 
merely  a  pretense.  And,  if  the  reformer  in  an  endeavor  to 
avoid  the  need  of  coercion  seeks  some  new  game,  that  by  its 
interest  may  lull  to  sleep  the  suspicions  of  the  child,  he  simply 
plays  at  hide  and  seek  with  that  necessity  which  his  pupil 
must  ultimately  discover  behind  all  his  seductive  forms. 
Sooner  or  later  the  stark  outlines  of  duty  must  appear,  as  the 
genius  whose  tyrannical  spirit  dominates  work,  whether  in  the 
school  or  in  life. 

Need  of  pre-        However,  the  reformer  will  urge  that  he  does  not  intend  to 

distinction6  conceal  duty  from  the  child.     His  design  seems  to  be,  not  to 

between      abolish  work,  but  to  lead  up  through  play  to  such  an  apprecia- 

work  tion  of  the  meaning  and  the  grounds  of  duty  as  shall  make  the 

child  give  in  freely  his  devotion  to  that  stern  ideal.     In  this 

plan  the  partizans  of  progress  may  well  wish  him  Godspeed, 

but  one  should  take  account  of  the  fact  that  it  contemplates  a 

constant  widening  of  the  gulf  between  work  and  genuine  play 

as  the  pupil  grows  older.     This  gulf  should  be  recognized. 


Play  411 

It  is  one  thing  to  say  that  with  little  children  education  should 
be  largely  through  play,  and  that  this  should  be  the  pathway 
of  approach  to  work,  and  another  to  maintain  that  there  need 
be  no  fundamental  distinction  between  them.  The  latter 
inference  is  unfortunately  apt  to  be  drawn  when  one  speaks 
of  play  as  the  means  of  motivating  the  difficult  tasks  of  the 
school. 

Not  only  should  the  school  teach  the  spirit  of  work  as  con- 
trasted with  that  of  play,  but  among  the  things  in  which  it 
must  give  instruction  are  forms  of  physical  and  mental  skill 
that  could  not  be  learned  except  by  such  prolonged  and  labo- 
rious effort  as  must  of  necessity  involve  a  powerful  coercive 
motive.  It  is,  perhaps,  impossible  to  demonstrate  that  free 
play  could  not  suffice  to  lead  children  to  master  the  reading, 
writing,  mathematics,  etc.,  which  our  civilization  deems  essen- 
tial, not  to  speak  of  vocational  training  and  of  the  higher 
phases  of  liberal  culture.  It  is,  however,  certain  that  no  school 
has  made  more  than  a  feeble  attempt  to  get  these  results  by 
play.  Historically  the  appearance  of  such  studies  has  not 
only  introduced  work  but,  as  we  have  seen,  tended  to  drive 
out  play.  It  is  the  latter  unfortunate  fact  which  has  led  to  the 
view  so  commonly  held  that  play  is  of  no  real  importance  in 
education. 

We  may  say,  then,  that  the  uncritical  resort  to  the  play  Bad  results 
motive  has  three  bad  consequences,     (a)  It  fails  to  differentiate 


between  what  play  can  and  cannot  do  in   the  school.     The      of  play  as 

an  educa- 

conception  of  play  is  not  properly  defined,  and  it  is  taken  to     tkmai 
mean  any  work  in  which  the  child  is  interested  as  well  as  gen-      method 
uine  play.     (6)  The  general  public  in  criticising  the  efforts 
of  reformers,  and  the  disciples  of  these  reformers  in  attempting 
to  carry  out  their  ideas,  are  apt  to  conceive  of  play  in  the  ordi- 
nary sense,  as  activity  which  the  child  engages  in  merely 
because  he  likes  it  and  without  any  appreciation  of  an  ulterior 


412 


Principles  of  Education 


Four  leading 
school  mo- 
tives :  — 

(i)  Play  as 
the  child 
motive 


utility.  The  result  is  that  the  public  regard  with  suspicion 
the  "sugar-coated"  education  that  they  think  has  been  intro- 
duced, and  the  teachers  only  too  often  give  a  ground  for  their 
suspicions  by  sedulously  avoiding  any  coercive  motive  for 
fear  of  interfering  with  the  freedom  of  play  in  the  child. 
(c)  The  emphasis  upon  play  as  a  device  of  method  distracts 
attention  from  the  far  more  important  task  of  organizing  the 
genuine  play  activities  of  children  in  such  a  way  as  to  get  from 
them  the  best  educational  results.  The  play  of  the  small 
child  leads  into  both  the  play  and  the  work  of  the  older  one. 
The  important  thing  is  not  that  when  work  appears  it  should 
be  indistinguishable  from  play,  but  rather  that  the  play  that 
persists  should  be  carefully  guarded  as  an  educational  force. 

It  is  evident  that,  while  the  love  of  play  is  a  legitimate 
school  motive,  it  is  only  one  among  many.  A  rough  classifi- 
cation of  the  kinds  of  school  motive  yields  four  types  :  play, 
the  desire  for  approval  and  the  fear  of  criticism  or  punishment, 
utility,  and  the  love  of  knowledge  or  skill.  In  general,  the 
play  motive  is  adapted  especially  to  children  up  through  the 
kindergarten.  It  continues  to  be  a  prominent  interest  all 
through  the  school  period  and,  indeed,  through  life.  How- 
ever, it  is  even  in  the  kindergarten  beginning  to  be  supplanted 
by  social  pressure.  The  desire  to  be  approved  must  be  evoked 
in  order  to  insure  whatever  of  sustained  effort  this  early  stage 
of  culture  demands.  Coercion  has,  it  is  true,  been  in  evidence 
from  much  earlier  in  the  child's  life.  It  has,  however,  been 
directed  rather  toward  negative  than  positive  results,  —  to 
prevent  the  child  from  doing  undesirable  things,  rather  than 
to  keep  him  at  tasks.  The  pressure  of  social  standards  driv- 
ing them  to  labor  is  with  most  children  to-day  first  felt  in  the 
influence  of  the  schoolmaster. 

The  appeal  to  the  child's  desire  to  get  on  well  with  others, 
which  may  be  briefly  designated  as  social  pressure,  is  the 


Play 


413 


"working"  motive  of  the  school.  When  all  other  motives 
fail  to  reach  the  pupil,  this  is  trusted  as  a  never  failing  resource. 
To  it  the  master  resorts  in  order  to  bridge  over  the  transition 
between  a  period  when  a  certain  motive  is  on  the  decline,  and 
one  when  another  motive  is  strongly  felt.  It  serves  as  an 
introduction  to  subjects  the  utility  of  which  the  child  is  as  yet 
unable  to  feel.  It  keeps  the  child  at  work  when  his  own  pleas- 
ure or  his  judgment  of  the  value  of  what  he  is  doing  begins 
to  lose  its  stimulating  power.  It  is  not  only  the  "working" 
motive  but,  indeed,  as  many  have  felt,  a  sadly  overworked 
one 

Social  pressure  is,  perhaps,  the  most  powerful  force  in  adult 
life,  and  it  is  well  that  the  child  should  become  acquainted 
with  it  early  in  his  school  career.  It  is  probable  that  the  kin- 
dergarten child  is  not  too  young  to  be  driven  to  work  by  it. 
Throughout  that  age  of  rivalry  in  which  the  games  of  individual 
contest  appeal  most  strongly,  social  pressure,  as  embodied  in 
the  will  of  teacher  and  supported  by  that  of  the  parents,  is  the 
natural  and  effective  force  that  supplements  the  interest  in 
play.  There  comes  a  time,  however,  when  with  many,  if 
not  with  most,  children  school  work  must  be  justified  by  other 
reasons  than  by  the  fact  that  success  therein  is  the  only  road 
to  the  favor  of  those  in  authority  over  them.  The  causes 
for  this  change  in  attitude  are  many.  Since  a  large  number 
of  children  are  not  especially  successful  in  their  school  occupa- 
tions, they  do  not  find  them  an  avenue  to  a  social  distinction 
that  seems  worth  while.  They  get  used  to  being  commonplace 
or  to  failing,  and  the  social  pressure  that  is  continually  directed 
toward  making  them  do  better  loses  its  sting.  Again,  the 
children  in  their  wider  intercourse  with  schoolfellows  and  with 
society  outside  the  school  come  to  realize  other  forms  of 
social  pressure  besides  that  emanating  from  the  teacher. 
To  be  successful  and  admired  among  certain  groups  of  children, 


(2)  Social 
pressure  as 
the  "work- 
ing" mo- 
tive 


Rebellion  of 
the  ado- 
lescent 
against 
school  co- 
ercion 


Principles  of  Education 


(3)  Need  of 
an  utilita- 
rian de- 
fense of 
school 
work 


and  even  of  older  people,  the  boy  or  girl  finds  that  clever 
evasion  or  an  open  disregard  of  the  will  of  the  teacher  is  the 
surest  method.  Parents  and  teacher  often  differ  as  to  what 
sort  of  conduct  is  desirable,  what  should  be  studied,  and  how 
much  effort  should  be  put  forth.  Most  important  of  all, 
a  developing  realization  of  the  larger  life,  for  which  school  is 
supposed  to  constitute  a  preparation,  causes  the  child  to  ques- 
tion the  values  of  what  he  is  required  to  learn. 

The  period  at  which  the  girl  or  boy  begins  to  reflect  upon  the 
relation  of  the  school  work  to  that  sort  of  life  which  he  or  she 
admires  is  the  most  critical  epoch  in  the  course  of  education, 
so  far  as  motivation  is  concerned.  If  the  earliest  period  in 
culture  can  be  trusted  largely  to  play,  and  the  middle  period 
largely  to  social  pressure,  the  onset  of  adolescence  makes 
necessary  a  sound  and  complete  defense  of  school  studies  on  the 
ground  of  utility.  It  is  here  that  most  children  tend  to  drop 
out  of  school,  and,  unquestionably,  not  solely  because  of  pov- 
erty, but  very  largely  because  the  work  that  is  offered  them  in 
school  does  not  suit  their  capacities  and  needs.  To  children 
who  cannot  get  on  in  school,  its  training  must  inevitably  seem 
of  little  value,  but  those  who  can  succeed  in  the  course  of  study 
are  not  infrequently  found  to  be  discontented  with  it  on  the 
score  of  its  utility.  That  the  adolescent  should  question  the 
value  of  what  he  is  asked  to  do  is  an  eminently  healthy  attitude. 
It  is  unfortunate  for  him  if  he  do  not  feel  that  what  he  is  learn- 
ing should  lead  somewhere  in  the  great  world  of  adult  activity, 
and  if  he  be  not  disposed  to  call  into  account  whatever  he  is 
directed  to  study  from  the  point  of  view  of  its  ultimate  value. 
Only  through  such  criticism  can  he  escape  mere  passive  depend- 
ence upon  the  standards  and  the  awards  of  certain  authorita- 
tive persons  and  rise  to  real  freedom.  Many  cases  of  success 
in  school  and  failure  in  life,  or  of  the  reverse,  are,  doubtless, 
due  to  the  fact  that  in  the  former  environment  submissiveness 


Play  415 

is,  on  the  whole,  a  valuable  quality,  whereas  in  the  latter  a 
premium  is  placed  on  independent  enterprise. 

The  motive  of  study  that  appears  in  pure  love  of  learning  or  (4)  The  aca- 
of  skill  may  be  called  the  academic  motive.  The  play  motive  "teacher's" 
is  primarily  the  child's  motive,  social  pressure  is  the  "working"  motive 
motive,  utility  the  worldly  or  universal  motive,  but  the  aca- 
demic motive  is  the  one  most  beloved  by  the  teacher.  It  may 
with  justice  be  called  the  "teacher's"  motive,  for  men  and 
women  whose  lives  are  spent  in  investigating  or  transmitting 
truth  are  apt  to  value  that  which  it  is  their  main  concern  to  give 
as  worth  while  in  itself.  To  the  teacher  learning  is  usually 
first,  and  its  application  a  secondary  affair.  In  endeavoring 
to  respond  to  the  challenge  of  the  world  he  may  seek  out  an 
utility  for  the  learning  that  he  transmits,  and  he  may  bow 
to  the  inevitable  and  limit  himself  to  teaching  the  world  the 
useful,  because  instruction  in  that  alone  will  yield  a  living,  but 
always  he  feels  and  strives  to  make  his  pupils  feel  a  pure  love 
of  knowledge  or  of  beauty,  which  is  after  all  in  his  estimation 
the  highest  motive  to  which  his  profession  can  appeal. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  academic  motive  is  a  real  force  Force  of  the 
with  many  children,  especially  with  those  who  succeed  well 
in  study.  One  comes  to  love  what  he  can  do  well.  Many 
children  pass  easily  from  the  stage  of  learning  under  social 
pressure  to  a  stage  of  absorption  in  learning  or  in  artistic 
creation  without  reference  especially  to  the  distinctions  that 
can  be  won  through  such  pursuits.  An  omniverous  appetite 
for  knowledge  in  any  or  all  fields  seizes  the  adolescent.  A  holy 
devotion  to  the  pure  ideals  of  art,  that  makes  one  idealize 
poverty  incurred  in  their  service,  is  common  enough  an  attitude 
to  the  youth  as  well  as  to  the  man. 

The  academic  motive  is  founded  on  instinct.     The  instinct  its  relation  to 
of  curiosity  which  constitutes  so  fundamental  an  agency  in     ptay 
driving  us  to  accumulate  experience  for  future  emergencies 


416 


Principles  of  Education 


Possible  in- 
terference 
of  the  aca- 
demic mo- 
tive with 
efficiency 


lies  back  of  the  scholar's  love  of  learning.  We  may  add  to 
this  the  mere  fondness  for  activity,  physical  and  mental, 
which  is  so  prominent  in  the  earliest  games  of  children,  and 
that  love  of  harmony  which  appears  as  soon  as  the  child's 
imagination  begins  to  waken.  Thus  the  teacher  does  not  need 
to  manufacture  the  academic  tastes,  for  they  grow  out  of  the 
simplest  factors  in  the  nature  of  the  growing  mind.  In  fact, 
the  academic  motive  is  the  one  most  definitely  continuous 
with  the  play  motive,  and  most  intimately  related  to  it  through- 
out life.  Both  involve  the  love  of  activity  for  its  own  sake,  and, 
although  the  academic  motive  can  with  its  devotees  coerce  labor 
quite  as  effectually  as  any  other,  it  is  yet  by  the  world  at  large  as- 
sociated more  closely  with  the  freedom  of  doing  what  one  wants 
to  do  than  with  the  necessity  of  doing  what  must  be  done. 

Thus  the  academic  motive  need  not  wait  until  the  child 
becomes  an  expert  in  any  field.  It  may  be  gradually  nourished, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  of  every  child  that  he  will  grow  from  the 
simple  curiosity  and  love  of  harmony  of  his  earlier  years  into 
a  catholic  interest  in  the  knowledge  and  the  art  that  have 
come  to  us  from  the  ages.  On  the  other  hand,  when  the  time 
comes  for  the  youth  to  begin  to  look  toward  a  vocation,  it  is 
unfortunate  for  him  if  his  love  of  the  ideal  pursuit  of  learning 
or  of  art  obscures  completely  a  sense  of  the  utilities  of  life. 
The  teacher's  motive  may  do  its  work  too  well.  It  may  be 
the  parent  of  a  devotion  to  other  dreams  than  that  of  service, 
and  so,  instead  of  stimulating,  it  may  paralyze  efficiency. 
Herein  lies  the  justification  of  that  complaint  so  often  made 
by  the  man  of  the  world  against  the  school,  that  instead  of 
preparing  it  unfits  for  life.  Herein  also  lies  the  cause  of  so 
much  discontent  with  the  school  on  the  part  of  the  children 
who  feel  the  call  of  the  world,  for  to  their  insistent  utilitarian- 
ism it  responds  with  an  academic  attitude  which  is  as  a  stone 
to  one  asking  for  bread. 


Play  417 

We  may  sum  up  this  discussion  of  the  love  of  play  as  a  Summary 
school  motive  by  reiterating  that  play,  as  ordinarily  conceived, 
is  incapable  of  giving  the  spirit  of  work  and  of  holding  the  child 
to  such  tasks  as  are  necessary  in  order  to  acquire  the  knowledge 
and  the  skill  requisite  either  for  the  standard  liberal  culture 
of  to-day  or  for  any  skilled  vocation  or  profession.  Hence, 
as  the  child  grows  older,  coercion  must  appear  and  be  felt. 
The  coercive  motives  that  lead  to  work  are  social  pressure  and 
utility.  The  former  is  easily  applied  when  the  school  atmos- 
phere is  such  as  to  give  to  the  teacher  authority.  It  fails, 
however,  as  the  child  grows  out  of  the  age  of  rivalry  into  that 
of  independence.  At  this  juncture  it  is  necessary  that  it 
should  grow  into  and  be  supplemented  by  either  the  utilitarian 
or  the  academic  motive.  It  is  well  if  the  transition  from  social 
pressure  into  these  be  so  cleverly  continued  that  the  child 
never  feels  the  constraint  of  the  school  to  have  been  arbitrary. 
What  teachers  have  approved  drifts  insensibly  into  that  which 
is  seen  to  be  rationally  best,  because  it  suits  the  necessities  of 
the  larger  life  of  the  world  or  of  the  youth's  inner  nature. 

Meantime,  the  play  of  the  younger  child  should  not  have 
disappeared  out  of  the  education  of  the  older  one.  As  lacking 
in  the  deadly  earnestness  of  the  work  of  the  school,  it  should 
come  to  be  felt  as  subsidiary,  yet  none  the  less  it  remains, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  life  as  a  whole,  an  element  of  prime 
importance.  Here  the  social,  the  aesthetic,  and  the  intellec- 
tual interests  can  thrive  in  the  most  stimulating  atmosphere. 
Here  the  academic  motive  can  grow  strong  by  the  mutual 
support  of  those  who  entertain  it.  The  play  life  of  the  school 
is  its  life  of  free  individuality,  and  from  free  individuality 
springs  all  devotion  to  ideals. 


2E 


418  Principles  of  Education 

(2)  The  organization  of  play  as  an  educational  factor 

importance         It  is  important  to  realize  the  limitations  of  play  as  a  sub- 
stitute  for  the  difficult  tasks  of  education  in  order  that  the  way 


educational  may  ke  opened  for  a  clearer  apprehension  of  the  desirability 
on  the  part  of  the  school  of  a  more  elaborate  organization  than 
at  present  exists  of  the  genuine  play  of  childhood  and  ado- 
lescence. The  discussion  of  this  subject  may  be  broken  into 
two  parts.  First,  we  may  consider  the  educational  value  of 
this  genuine  play  as  contrasted  with  the  work,  which  with  the 
growth  of  a  sense  of  responsibility  in  the  child  constantly  be- 
comes more  absorbing.  Second,  it  is  an  open  question  to 
what  extent  the  school  can  profitably  take  a  hand  in  the 
organization  and  control  of  play  activities. 
Contrasting  When  we  compare  the  educational  results  of  play  and  work, 

ethical  and  .          ,  ,        .  .  „  . 

social  quai-  we  notice  that  the  former  is  more  effective  in  two  particulars. 
ities  cuiti-    it  cultivates  certain  social  qualities,  certain  ethical  virtues,  far 

vated  by 

play  and  more  effectively  than  does  work,  and  it  is  especially  valuable 
as  a  means  of  stimulating  that  rational  attitude  which  we 
have  called  originality,  or  initiative.  The  virtues  that  play 
calls  into  activity  are  especially  such  as  involve  familiarity 
with  the  feelings  and  attitudes  of  others  and  the  power  of 
adaptation  to  social  situations.  Courage  and  confidence,  tact 
and  consideration,  ability  to  cooperate,  and  a  sense  of  the  power 
that  comes  from  this  source,  leadership,  loyalty,  and  altru- 
ism, —  all  find  in  the  intercourse  of  the  game,  or  of  such  activ- 
ity as  may  be  classified  as  play,  favorable  opportunity  for 
development.  On  the  other  hand,  the  virtues  that  work  cul- 
tivates are  especially  obedience,  patience,  perseverance,  and 
industry.  Finally,  the  contrast  between  work  and  play  devel- 
ops the  sense  of  relative  values  upon  which  it  is  founded. 

It  is  not  meant  that  either  play  or  work  cultivates  one  set  of 
virtues  to  the  exclusion  of  the  others,  but  that  each  furnishes 


Play  419 

the  most  effective  environment  to  cause  certain  traits  to  flour- 
ish. The  especial  value  of  play  as  a  basis  of  social  culture  arises 
from  the  fact  that  games  depend  so  largely  upon  the  social 
instinct  for  their  interest,  and  partly  from  the  great  variety 
of  social  situations  that  the  freedom  of  the  game  permits 
and  fosters.  In  work  the  social  attitudes  are  as  a  rule  more 
restricted  and  permanent  in  character.  In  play  they  vary 
with  surprising  rapidity.  If  one  fails  to  excel  in  one  sport, 
he  may  try  another.  In  the  revolutions  of  position  that  the 
fortunes  of  one  game  or  the  shifting  from  one  game  to  another 
involve,  each  usually  finds  himself  with  an  opportunity  to 
display  whatever  social  talent  he  possesses.  Moreover,  the 
group  games  depend  upon  the  cooperation  of  the  individuals 
who  take  part.  If  one  leads,  it  is  because  the  others  are  willing 
to  follow.  If  all  are  not  content  with  the  rules  and  the  con- 
ditions of  the  sport,  it  cannot  succeed.  The  game  is  demo- 
cratic, and  affords  an  opportunity  to  the  individual  to  exercise 
such  a  variety  of  powers  and  functions  as  to  give  great  social 
adaptability. 

The  same  freedom  that  makes  the  game  so  serviceable  for  Play  and  the 
the  cultivation  of  social  skill  renders  it  valuable  as  a  means  of 


resouree- 


developing  originality.  Here,  doubtless,  we  find  the  reason  fulness 
for  whatever  truth  there  is  in  the  proverb,  "All  work  and  no 
play  makes  Jack  a  dull  boy."  In  play  new  situations  arise 
with  great  frequency.  The  democracy  of  the  social  relation- 
ship gives  each  one  a  chance  to  show  what  he  can  do,  and  often 
such  chances  will  be  taken  with  great  gain  in  confidence. 
Thus  the  habit  of  casting  about  among  one's  resources  for  a 
solution  to  a  difficulty  is  cultivated.  It  must  be  noted,  how- 
ever, that  many  children  get  into  the  habit  of  relying  on 
others  for  these  solutions,  and  that  the  cooperative  character 
of  the  game  renders  such  an  attitude  quite  easy  to  assume. 
Nevertheless,  the  game  is  probably  not  so  likely  to  cultivate 


420 


Principles  of  Education 


lemfor 
possepui 


passivity  and  subserviency  as  work,  just  because  the  latter 
is  a  matter  of  coercion  while  the  former  is  free.  The  variety  of 
social  changes  that  play  presents  can  scarcely  fail  to  thrust 
upon  the  attention  of  each  individual  the  advantages  of 
independence  and  resourcefulness.  If  he  does  not  develop 
these  qualities,  it  is  not  for  want  of  an  opportunity,  but  be- 
cause  he  does  not  possess  them.  Work,  on  the  contrary,  is  apt 
to  cultivate  the  tendency  to  imitate  and  to  obey,  to  control 
one's  self  in  the  service  of  a  rule  and  a  standard  that  comes 
from  without.  Only  when  through  the  skill  of  the  teacher  it 
takes  the  form  of  problems,  does  it  directly  aim  to  lead  the 
child  to  be  original.  When  this  is  done,  the  insistent  character 
of  the  situation  gives  it  an  advantage  over  play.  If  the  play- 
ing child  does  not  rise  to  the  situation,  he  may  satisfy  him- 
self by  regarding  the  whole  matter  as  of  no  importance.  The 
general  seriousness  of  work  tends  to  remove  the  possibility  of 
this  attitude.  On  the  other  hand,  play  makes  up  for  its 
feebleness  in  coercion  by  the  abundance  and  variety  of  the 
situations  that  it  offers. 

Absence  of  If  it  be  granted  that  the  activities  of  play  afford  a  special 
democratic  opportunity  for  the  development  of  social  adaptability  and 
education  resourcefulness,  it  is  plain  that  the  schools  of  a  democracy  can- 
not afford  to  neglect  them.  At  present,  however,  the  em- 
phasis tends  in  the  other  direction.  The  nineteenth  century, 
with  its  popular  systems  of  education,  may  be  said  to  have  prac- 
tically solved  the  problem  of  literacy  for  the  masses  in  the  pro- 
gressive nations.  But  universal  education  has  meant  a  school 
for  those  whose  lot  in  life  is  not  leadership  nor  leisure,  but 
breadwinning,  usually  by  methods  involving  much  manual  toil. 
Having  solved  the  preliminary  problem  of  literacy,  education 
is  now  turning  more  and  more  to  that  of  cultivating  vocational 
efficiency.  It  is  natural,  therefore,  that  the  school,  particu- 
larly the  free  school,  should  be  infused  with  the  spirit  of  toil, 


Play  42 1 

and  that,  in  the  endeavor  to  hold  the  children  who  are  so  apt 
to  leave  as  soon  as  the  law  permits,  it  should  be  striving  to 
appeal  especially  to  the  sense  of  utility  in  them  and  their 
parents. 

But  while,  on  the  one  hand,  modern  conditions  have  tended  Especial  need 
to  universalize  the  demand  for  vocational  education,  they      forits 

*        presence 

have  also,  on  the  other,  created  a  need  for  the  liberalizing 
forms  of  culture  in  the  emancipated  masses.  The  problem  of 
the  relation  between  liberal  and  vocational  education  will  be 
attacked  later,  but  it  is  in  place  here  to  note  the  importance 
in  the  new  scheme  of  universal  education  of  activities  which 
are  essentially  forms  of  play.  For  such  activities  have  been 
found  to  be  peculiarly  fitted  to  cultivate  social  resourcefulness 
and  efficiency,  qualities  especially  necessary  in  a  democracy, 
where  the  individual  is  not  bound  to  the  status  of  birth,  but  is 
thrown  on  his  own  responsibility  to  find  the  place  that  his 
talents  and  his  energy  entitle  him  to  occupy.  To  lead  when 
leadership  is  one's  appropriate  function,  to  follow  without 
subserviency  when  others  are  from  talents  or  fortune  put  in 
position  to  control,  to  be  always  ready  to  utilize  one's  re- 
sources when  the  opportunity  comes,  —  these  are  qualities  that 
are  especially  valuable  in  the  life  of  a  democracy,  and  they 
are  qualities  that  are  nowhere  better  cultivated  than  in  the 
game.  Hence  this  phase  of  the  life  of  the  child,  crowded  out 
of  the  curriculum  on  account  of  its  apparent  lack  of  utility, 
should  again  find  entrance  because  of  its  relation  to  that 
social  flexibility  which  has  become  so  necessary  for  all. 

Among  the  phases  of  this  modern  endeavor  to  utilize  play  Modem  en- 
may   be    mentioned    the    development   of   gymnasiums    and 
school  playgrounds,  the  appearance  of  teachers  of  physical      educational 
culture   and  directors  of   athletics,    the   encouragement  and 
growth  of  systems  of  student  self-government,  the  fostering  of 
all  sorts  of  subsidiary  student  enterprises,  as  newspapers  and 


422  Principles  of  Education 

periodicals,  religious,  literary,  scientific,  and  social  clubs,  the 
establishment  of  recreation  centers,  such  movements  as  that 
of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  involving  a  variety 
of  physical  and  mental  sports  together  with  educational  fea- 
tures in  addition  to  religion,  the  development  of  school  ex- 
cursions and  summer  camps,  and  the  reorganization  of  ele- 
mentary education  so  that  social  activity,  much  of  which  is 
play,  may  be  made  more  prominent,  as  has  been  attempted 
Need  of  adult  in  the  Experimental  School  at  Chicago.  In  all  these  develop- 
ments the  principle  that  play,  in  order  to  produce  its  best 
results,  needs  a  large  measure  of  adult  encouragement  and 
even  adult  organization  and  control  is  illustrated.  The  child 
needs  to  be  taught  to  play  as  well  as  to  work.  Gymnasiums 
without  instructors  lie  unused.  School  playgrounds  with- 
out directors  become  the  scene  of  mere  random  intercourse, 
such  as  scuffling  and  rowdyism.  If  such  things  are  true  of 
apparatus  and  provision  for  physical  sports,  much  more  true 
is  it  that  mental  games  require  assistance  from  the  instructor. 
Children  teach  each  other  to  play,  but  beyond  a  certain  point 
all  progress  in  the  game  depends  upon  adult  interest  and  in- 
fluence. The  game  does  not  evolve  into  a  better  instrument 
for  education  unless  such  adult  influences  are  brought  to  bear 
upon  it.  Of  course,  this  need  of  the  support  and  advice  of 
elders  becomes  less  important  as  the  child  grows  older.  How- 
ever, even  the  games  of  adults  need  careful  watching  lest 
pastime  prove  mere  waste  time,  or,  worse,  time  for  degenera- 
tion. 

This  supervision  on  the  part  of  the  school  will,  doubtless, 
as  time  goes  on  become  increasingly  important.  As  a  nation 
we  shall  be  taught  how  to  play  as  well  as  how  to  work.  By 
wise  control  many  institutions  of  school  life  that  are  com- 
monly regarded  as  objectionable  may  be  utilized.  The  fra- 
ternity is  an  example.  Unregulated,  it  is  often  a  school  of 


Play  423 

snobbishness,  of  idleness,  of  dissipation.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  can  be  made  a  source  of  social  culture  and  of  inspiration 
scarcely  less  valuable  than  the  regular  studies  of  the  cur- 
riculum. If  the  former  objectionable  features  can  be  warded 
off,  a  great  agency  for  education  is  saved.  The  "let  alone" 
policy  here,  as  with  other  playful  activities,  is  not  the  only 
alternative  to  complete  suppression.  There  are  methods 
of  regulation  that  do  not  destroy  the  essentials  of  control  by 
the  students.  These  methods  have  not  been  perfected,  — 
indeed,  very  few  have  even  been  tried.  It  is  a  safe  prophecy 
that,  when  the  school  authorities  come  fully  to  realize  the  im- 
portance of  these  student  activities,  they  will  not  find  the 
problem  of  regulation  insurmountable.  For  it  is  not  the  im- 
possibility of  regulating  play  while  preserving  its  playfulness 
that  constitutes  the  fundamental  difficulty.  It  is  rather  the 
failure  on  the  part  of  the  school  to  recognize  the  value  in  edu- 
cation of  anything  aside  from  its  prescribed  curriculum. 

Four  practical  consequences  of  the  assumption  of  respon-  Practical 
sible  control  over  play  by  the  school  may  be  distinguished, 


These  are:   (i)  the  lengthening  of  the  school  day;    (2)   far      anade- 

11  11  i  •  •  r      i  i        quate  use 

more  elaborate  development  and  supervision  of  playground     Of  piay  in 
activities,    club   life,   and   pupil   organizations   of   all   sorts  ;      education 
(3)  the  correlation  of  these  play  activities  with  the  work  of  the 
school  ;    (4)  the  growth  of  the  school  into  the  intellectual  and 
social  center  of  the  community,  by  enlisting  the  cooperation 
of  parents  in  the  play  activities,  with  a  consequent  transforma- 
tion of  the  avocations  and  of  the  social  and  political  activities 
of  the  adults  in  the  school  environment. 

(i)  The  city  school  seems  to  be  drifting  in  two  directions;  (i)  Super- 


toward  a  shortening  of  the  program  of  study  and  recitation,        d  aP' 
and  toward  the  establishment  of  supervision  over  recreation.      lonser 

.  school  day 

The  growing  conviction  that  children  are  kept  at  their  tasks 
much  longer   than  is  necessary   to  accomplish   the  desired 


424  Principles  of  Education 

results  and  that  time  is  wasted  in  constraint  without  achieve- 
ment might  easily  result  in  a  much  shorter  school  day,  were 
it  not  for  the  problem  of  the  occupation  of  the  children  for 
the  rest  of  the  time.  On  the  farm  this  would  have  been  an 
easy  task.  In  the  city  of  to-day  it  is  quite  a  different  matter. 
The  advocate  of  the  niggardly  policy  in  the  support  of  the 
schools  might  welcome  the  shortening  of  the  working  day, 
if  he  were  not  at  the  same  time>  facing  an  inevitable  increase 
in  the  expense  of  supervising  the  playground  activity.  Such 
additional  expense  we  may  confidently  expect,  not  only  in  the 
city  but  in  the  country.  For  while  the  city  needs  supervised 
play  to  keep  the  children  from  degenerate  social  intercourse, 
the  country  needs  it  to  supply  a  deficiency  in  social  life.  The 
character  of  the  play  activities  as  well  as  the  hours  that  are  de- 
voted to  them  might  well  vary  according  to  the  character  of 
the  community,  but  that  great  movement  for  the  utilization 
of  play  which  is  rapidly  sweeping  over  the  cities  must  inevi- 
tably affect  the  country  school  as  well. 

(2)  Expan-         (2)  The  play  life  of  the  school  should  aim  at  all  the  leisure 

programthe  interests  of  life.     There  should  be  organizations  for  athletics, 

of  play        social   companionship,   literary   and   artistic   enjoyment   and 

creation,  the  drama,  intellectual  investigations,  excursions  and 

travel,  self-government,  and  political  and  social  betterment. 

Transfer  of     Such  organizations  would  inevitably  trench  considerably  on 

studies  to     the  work  done  in  the  regular  curriculum  of  the  school  of  to- 

thepiay       d          This  regult  is  t     be  weicome(j.     If  the  work  of  the 

program  * 

school  belongs  to  the  play  of  life,  it  is  not  properly  placed  in 
the  curriculum.  A  very  large  portion  of  the  literary  and  ar- 
tistic study  of  the  school  is  most  clearly  better  suited  to  what 
may  be  called  its  play  life,  and  could  be  more  effectively  cul- 
tivated therein.  The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  much  of  the 
history,  science,  and  mathematics.  The  control  of  such  work 
can  probably  be  most  effectively  intrusted  to  pupil  organiza- 


Play  425 

tions  over  which  the  teachers  exercise  a  more  indirect  control 
than  over  the  tasks  of  the  schoolroom.  In  this  way  some 
pupils  may  learn  less  science  or  history  or  literature,  but  many, 
if  not  most,  will  learn  far  more  than  they  do  to-day. 

(3)  The  play  life  of  the  school  will  lead  into  the  avocations  (3)  Motiva- 
of  the  man.     But  it  is  what  man  does  aside  from  his  vocation 

that  determines  the  tastes,  the  needs,  the  standards  of  life  of     work 
the  community.     These  standards,  as  we  noted  in  discussing     relation  to 
the  general  theory  of  play,  create  the  vocations.     So.  too,  in     the  play 

program 

the  school,  the  play  life  may  be  trusted  to  create  demands  that 
will  motivate  the  work  done  in  the  classroom.  Thus  the  cur- 
riculum may  be  made  to  have  a  double  utility  to  the  child. 
On  the  one  hand,  it  may  bear  directly  upon  the  adult  vocation 
toward  which  he  is  eagerly  or  anxiously  looking  ;  on  the  other, 
it  may  be  correlated  with  the  avocations  which  absorb  con- 
tinuous interest.  When  these  avocations  are  lifted  into  im- 
portance by  careful  organization  and  supervision,  they  may 
become  a  far  more  stimulating  source  of  motive  than  is  avail- 
able to  the  schoolmaster  to-day. 

(4)  If  there  is  any  activity  in  which  adult  and  child  meet  (4)  The  play 
on  common  ground,  it  is  that  of  play.     The  school  cannot 


engage  the  inspection  nor  even  the  interest  of  parents  in  any     center  of 

community 

exercises  so  well  as  in  those  show  performances  that  are  not  ufc 
its  work,  but  only  its  sport.  The  adult  cannot  be  expected 
to  go  to  school  to  work.  He  can  easily  be  led  to  go  there  to 
play.  The  proper  development  of  this  phase  of  school  life 
would  mean  the  creation  of  a  social  center  to  which  the  child 
who  has  left  school  and  entered  his  vocation  might  continue 
to  resort.  In  its  activities  the  adults  of  the  community 
might  be  led  to  take  part.  Thus  both  in  the  country  and  in 
the  city  the  school  might  become  the  intellectual  and  social 
center  of  the  community,  and  give  that  unifying  spirit  and 
that  comprehensive  interest  in  all  phases  of  life  which  the 


426  Principles  of  Education 

churches,  on  account  of  denominational  strife  and  exclusive 
interest  in  spiritual  salvation,  have  often  failed  to  render. 
Such  participation  on  the  part  of  the  adults  in  the  avocations 
of  the  school  would  make  it  possible  for  education  to  affect 
the  inner  tastes  and  standards  of  the  community,  and  thus 
to  control  the  social  conditions  from  whence  arise  the  demands 
that  it  exists  to  supply.  Instead  of  trusting  passively  that 
its  graduates  shall  carry  out  its  ideals  in  a  strange  and  hostile 
environment,  it  might  retain  its  grip  upon  them.  Certainly 
one  step  in  the  process  of  making  the  school  like  life  is  that  of 
making  life  like  the  school. 


PART   III 

THE  EDUCATIONAL  AGENCIES 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ANALYSIS   OF   THE   EDUCATIONAL   AGENCIES 

SECTION  47.     The  educational  institutions 

THE  educational  agencies  may  be  classified  into  the  edu-  Social  fosti- 

cational  institutions  and   the  educational  materials,   or  the  [he^curf1" 

course  of  study.     Both  of  these  are  properly  to  be  regarded  as  ricuium  as 
agencies,  or  active  forces  in  education  ;    for  while  we  may 


naturally  think  of  the  curriculum  as  being  passively  taught, 
in  contrast  with  the  institutions,  like  the  family  and  the  school, 
which  actively  teach,  nevertheless,  a  more  careful  analysis  will 
show  that  both  agencies  are  essentially  the  same  in  function. 
They  are  both  directive  forces  in  education,  and  they  make 
up  that  educational  environment  into  conformity  with  which 
it  is  the  function  of  the  educational  process  to  bring  the  body 
and  the  mind  of  the  individual. 

In  truth,  an  institution  might,  without  any  departure  from  The  institu- 
essential  fact,  be  called  a  course  of  study.  It  consists  in  a 
group  of  standard  forms  of  conduct  through  which  society  per- 
forms  one  great  function,  or,  perhaps,  several  associated  ones. 
Originally,  the  curriculum  of  a  normal  education  consisted  in 
simply  learning  how  to  live  in  conformity  to  the  prevailing 
institutions.  Social  heredity  clustered  about  social  organiza- 
tion, and  the  child  was  educated  only  by  a  sort  of  apprentice- 
ship in  the  social  life  of  the  adult.  The  course  of  study,  as  dis-  Rise  of  the 
tinct  from  institutional  life,  originates  in  the  separation  of  some 
habits  and  ideas  such  as  the  primitive  child  learns  by  merely 
taking  part  in  the  ordinary  life  about  him,  and  their  incor- 
poration in  a  compact  form  in  the  instruction  and  practice  of 

429 


430 


Principles  of  Education 


The  family 
and  the 
school  as 
especially 
devoted  to 
education 


Part  of  the 
church,  the 
state,  and 
the  voca- 
tion in  edu- 
cation 


a  special  phase  of  life,  —  that  of  the  school.  This  curriculum 
has  been  enormously  expanded  until  it  has  seemed  to  include 
very  much  that  has  little,  if  anything,  to  do  with  the  actual 
practices  of  institutional  life.  However,  this  does  not  vitiate 
the  fundamental  proposition  that  the  course  of  study  in  the 
largest  sense  is  the  material  of  social  heredity,  while  an  insti- 
tution consists  of  a  special  body  of  this  material  of  habits 
and  ideas  in  active  operation  among  the  individuals  of  a  group 
to  fulfill  one  of  the  great  functions  of  society. 

It  follows  that  all  the  institutions  of  society  are  educative. 
They  consist  of  practices  which  the  child  observes,  imitates,  and 
eventually  embodies  into  the  groundwork  of  his  own  conduct. 
Some  institutions,  however,  since  they  have  most  to  do  with 
the  child,  are  especially  concerned  in  education.  These  are, 
of  course,  the  family  and  the  school.  The  latter  arises  in  the 
course  of  that  differentiation  of  functions  in  society  by  which 
the  various  institutions  are  separated,  and,  since  it  is  con- 
cerned solely  in  the  function  of  education,  it  gradually  absorbs 
more  and  more  the  educative  function  of  the  others. 

Incidentally,  the  state,  the  vocation,  and  especially  the 
church  are  concerned  quite  extensively  in  the  work  of  educa- 
tion. The  religious  institution  must  of  necessity  devote 
itself  largely  to  an  endeavor  to  mold  the  attitudes  and  be- 
liefs of  the  individual.  It  must  aim  to  stir  up  the  religious 
ideas,  feelings,  and  habits  in  the  young,  and  to  keep  them  alive 
in  the  adult.  Hence  the  church  has  always  insisted  on  its 
paramount  right  in  the  control  of  education,  and  has  frequently 
been  successful  in  its  claim,  —  so  successful  as  to  absorb  into 
itself  a  very  large, part  of  the  work  of  teaching.  The  problems 
that  have  arisen  because  of  the  identity  of  interest  between 
the  church  and  the  school  are  many,  and  a  few  of  them  will  be 
touched  upon  later.  The  state  has  been  intimately  concerned 
with  the  religious  control  of  education,  and  in  modern  times 


Analysis  of  the  Educational  Agencies       431 

its  interference  has  had  much  to  do  with  the  separation  of 
the  school  from  the  domination  of  church  or  family.  The 
vocation  has  been  very  closely  associated  with  family  life. 
Children  have  tended  to  follow  the  vocations  of  their  parents, 
and  they  have  been  wont  to  receive  their  vocational  training 
in  connection  with  the  rest  of  the  culture  that  is  peculiar  to 
the  family  relationship.  However,  just  as  church  and  state 
have  broken  loose  from  the  family  and  instituted  a  special 
type  of  culture  independent  of  family  control,  so  the  vocation 
has  asserted  itself  and  set  up  its  own  educational  system, 
usually  one  of  apprenticeship,  which  is  dominated  by  the  mem- 
bers of  the  vocation  without  reference  to  family  connections. 

Although  the  family  springs  into  existence  as  a  means  of  Reason  for 
fostering  the  young,  it  does  not  at  first  assume  consciously 
the  function  of  training  them.     Nevertheless,  fosterage  exists, 


as  we  have  seen,  primarily  for  the  sake  of  education,  and  the  family 
interest  that  it  involves  leads  inevitably  into  that  activity. 
By  the  time  this  has  taken  place,  and  especially  before  any 
serious  attempts  have  been  made  at  conscious  education,  the 
family  has  assumed  a  number  of  other  functions.  It  has,  in 
many  cases,  been  the  unit  in  political  or  religious  organization, 
and  it  remains  to-day  to  a  considerable  degree  an  industrial 
unit,  illustrating  within  itself  the  division  of  labor.  More- 
over, up  to  modern  times  this  unit  has  been  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
industrially  independent.  Possessing  all  these  phases  of  ac- 
tivity, it  is  evident  that  the  family  could  well  perform  them 
only  in  very  primitive  social  conditions.  As  for  education, 
the  parents  have,  as  a  rule,  neither  the  leisure  nor  the  breadth 
of  knowledge  or  of  skill  to  teach  a  social  heritage  not  readily 
illustrated  in  the  common  activities  of  the  home.  Even  home 
affairs  involve  phases  that  require  too  much  special  attention 
for  the  ordinary  household  to  care  for  them  with  much  success. 
Thus  the  interests  of  the  child  demand  that  the  family  shall 


432 


Principles  of  Education 


Assumption 
of  control 
over  the 
school  by 
the  state. 
Resulting 
advan- 
tages 


Position  of 
the  school 
not  yet 
clearly  es- 
tablished   ' 


give  up  part  at  least  of  its  educational  work  and  transfer  this 
to  the  school.  If  this  were  all,  the  school  would  have  remained 
under  the  control  of  the  family,  as,  indeed,  it  is  to  a  consider- 
able extent  even  to-day.  But  wherever  the  family  is  not 
identical  with  the  state,  the  value  of  education  as  a  means 
of  social  control  leads  the  regnant  social  institution  to  assume 
the  supervision  of  an  activity  which  must  be  under  its  sway 
if  its  power  and  prestige  is  to  be  maintained.  Ultimately, 
this  transference  of  the  educative  function  from  the  family  to 
agencies  at  once  more  special  in  function  and  general  in  con- 
trol redounds  to  the  interest  of  the  individual.  The  stages  in 
this  transition  are,  however,  not  all  marked  by  attention  or 
service  to  this  interest,  and  even  to-day  the  question  of  that 
assignment  of  authority  in  educational  matters  which  insures 
the  greatest  benefit  both  to  the  individual  and  to  the  commu- 
nity is  a  matter  of  debate. 

The  school  is  the  latest  of  the  great  social  institutions  to 
become  differentiated.  Indeed,  this  process  is  by  no  means 
complete,  and  we  are  even  to-day  witnessing  in  the  changes 
occurring  before  our  eyes  the  growth  of  independent  maturity. 
In  a  sense,  one  may  say  that  this  growth  has  reached  adoles- 
cence, an  age  when  fantastic  notions  of  the  need  of  independ- 
ence and  of  the  rights  of  self  are  rife,  to  develop  later  into  a 
saner  judgment  that  recognizes  the  importance  of  interdepend- 
ence and  of  service.  The  issues  clustering  about  the  question 
of  the  position  of  this  newly  differentiated  social  institution 
in  reference  to  the  others  will  receive  somewhat  more  minute 
treatment  in  the  following  chapter.  In  the  present  one,  we'may 
note  that  in  the  last  century  the  school  has  advanced  into  a 
position  of  such  relative  importance  as  to  take  its  stand  be- 
side the  family,  the  church,  and  even  the  state,  as  one  of  the 
fundamental  institutions  of  society.  Thus  the  educative  func- 
tion, so  primitive  as  to  be  the  most  important  original  cause 


Analysis  of  the  Educational  Agencies        433 


of  the  evolution  of  society,1  and  so  fundamental  that  through- 
out the  ages  it  may  be  said  to  have  constituted  the  chief  service 
of  society  to  man,  has  come  at  last  to  such  clear  recognition 
that  it  is  intrusted  to  an  institution  the  sole  function  of  which 
is  to  see  that  it  is  properly  performed. 

The  differentiation  of  the  school  and  its  assumption  of  the 
general  control  over  social  heredity  means  that  society  has 
come  deliberately  to  undertake  the  task  of  improving  itself 
through  bettering  its  education.  This  advance,  although  not 
so  revolutionary  as  that  earlier  transition  by  which  social 
heredity  came  to  supplement  physiological  heredity,  and 
largely  to  take  its  place,  as  the  bearer  of  those  qualities  hi 
respect  to  which  rapid  progress  may  be  expected,2  is,  never- 
theless, a  phase  of  the  most  important  step  in  social  evolution 
since  that  time.  For  it  indicates  a  clear  recognition  of  the 
method  of  evolution  by  the  selection  of  institutions  rather  than 
by  the  selection  of  men.  When  this  conception  comes  clearly 
to  consciousness,  that  ideal  education  which  looks  toward 
the  future,  or,  in  other  terms,  that  rational  education  which 
has  the  paradoxical  aim  of  preparing  for  the  unexpected  rises 
to  supplement  and,  indeed,  in  some  measure  to  supplant  the 
recapitulatory  education  that  has  dominated  through  the  ages 
of  human  history.  Education,  always  for  the  individual  a 
source  of  change  and,  we  may  assume,  progress,  becomes  with 
the  development  of  recapitulatory  education  also  an  agency 
making  for  social  conservatism,  quiescence.  When,  how- 
ever, ideal  or  rational  education  becomes  plainly  defined,  and 
especially  when  society  becomes  so  clearly  conscious  of  its 
value  as  to  differentiate  the  school  in  order  that  it  may  assume 
control  over  this  function,  we  may  say  that  education  has 
assumed  for  the  race  that  guardianship  of  progress  which  it 
has  always  exercised  for  the  individual. 

1  Compare  §  12.  *  Compare  §  8. 

2F 


Coincidence 
of  the  com- 
plete dif- 
ferentia- 
tion of  the 
school  and 
the  rise  of 
rational 
education 


434 


Principles  of  Education 


Leading 
issues  in 
regard  to 
the  curricu- 
lum 


Distinction 
between 
academic 
and  prac- 
tical sub- 
jects 


Distinction 
between 
liberal  and 
vocational 
subjects 


SECTION  48.     The  educational  materials 

Among  the  many  possible  classifications  of  the  educational 
materials,  the  aim  of  this  discussion  will  be  to  select  those 
which  are  suggestive  of  the  most  important  problems  to-day. 
Such  classifications  have,  however,  an  historic  significance, 
which  must  be  considered,  since  it  has  a  bearing  on  their  pres- 
ent interpretation.  Four  distinctions  in  subject  matter  may 
be  chosen  as  embodying  the  most  fundamental  educational 
issues.  These  are  (i)  the  humanities  contrasted  with  the 
sciences;  (2)  the  disciplinary  contrasted  with  the  content  sub- 
jects; (3)  the  distinction  of  academic  from  practical  subjects; 
and  (4)  of  liberal  from  vocational  studies. 

Of  these  distinctions  the  two  latter  will  be  chosen  for  most 
extended  discussion,  and  a  chapter  devoted  to  each.  By 
academic  subjects  are  meant  those  pursued  merely  for  the 
sake  of  knowledge  or  of  aesthetic  gratification  without  direct 
reference  to  the  use  of  the  knowledge  or  of  the  art  in  furthering 
specific  practical  ends.  We  have  science  for  science's  sake 
and  "art  for  art's  sake."  The  one  appeals  merely  to  the  in- 
tellect, the  other  to  the  emotions  and  the  taste.  On  the 
other  hand,  both  may  be  treated  as  merely  instrumental  to 
the  effectiveness  of  will  and  thus  be  converted  into  practical 
subjects. 

The  distinction  between  liberal  and  vocational  studies  is  one 
that  seems  evident  on  its  face.  However,  the  word  " liberal" 
has  been  used  in  so  many  senses  and  the  conception  of  the 
vocation  has  been  so  broadened  that  careful  definition  is  nec- 
essary to  get  a  norm  to  which  to  refer  variations.  In  general, 
by  liberal  studies  we  shall  mean  those  that  prepare  for  leader- 
ship and  leisure,  and  by  vocational  ones  those  that  are  pursued 
because  they  contribute  to  the  making  of  a  living.  If  we  re- 
gard leadership  as  a  vocation,  the  aims  are  not  mutually  ex- 


Analysis  of  the  Educational  Agencies        435 

elusive.  Moreover,  as  the  vocations  have  become  more  and 
more  rationalized  and  made  scientific,  what  has  historically 
been  regarded  as  having  value  merely  as  liberal  study  the 
present  generation  has  found  to  contribute  to  vocational 
efficiency.  Hence,  frequently  the  same  subject  matter  may 
be  regarded  as  either  liberal  or  vocational  or  both.  The  his- 
torical interrelations  of  these  two  kinds  of  subjects  have  been 
very  suggestive,  and  their  proper  status  may  be  said  to  be  still 
a  matter  of  dispute. 

We  may  note  in  this  introductory  statement  the  association 
of  liberal  culture  with  aristocratic  life.  The  word  "liberal" 
means,  of  course,  pertaining  to  freemen,  but  the  freeman 
among  the  ancients  was  a  member  of  the  governing  class,  i.e. 
an  aristocrat.  So,  too,  at  the  Renaissance  the  classic  ideal  of 
liberal  culture  was  taken  up  by  an  aristocracy  and  interpreted, 
as  formerly,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  interests  of  such  a 
class.  This  culture  was  calculated,  as  our  definition  indi- 
cates, to  contribute  to  the  noble  and  free  enjoyment  of  leisure 
and  to  the  ability  to  govern  men.  It  was  not  yet  thought  to 
require  any  superior  skill  to  serve  them.  Vocational  training 
was  despised  as  the  training  of  a  servile  class.  Gradually, 
however,  the  thought  of  service  has  been  ennobled.  First,  it 
became  recognized  as  possessing  moral  quality  of  the  highest 
value,  and  then,  as  it  grew  to  be  more  scientific,  this  gain  in 
intellectual  character  completed  its  title  to  respect.  The 
final  step  in  the  evolution  is  attained  when  the  function  of 
public  control  becomes  itself  recognized  as  a  service  and, 
indeed,  as  a  vocation  to  be  rewarded  according  to  the  value 
of  the  service  to  the  community. 

Important  as  the  distinctions  between  the  humanities  and 
the  sciences  is  and  has  been,  the  questions  that  it  involves  are 
rather  of  historic  than  of  modern  interest.  At  the  time  of  the 
Renaissance  humanism  was  a  reaction  against  spiritualism.  It 


Liberal  cul- 
ture as 
peculiar  to 
an  aris- 
tocracy. 
Rise  of 
education 
for  service 


Disappear- 
ance of  the 
struggle 
between 
the  human- 
ities and 


436  Principles  of  Education 

represented  devotion  to  the  things  pertaining  to  the  present 
world  of  man  rather  than  to  those  of  the  future  life  with  God. 
Literature  and  history,  art  and  travel,  even  science  itself,  were 
from  this  point  of  view  regarded  as  humane  studies.  When, 
however,  the  humanistic  schools,  in  their  endeavor  to  give  their 
pupils  a  mastery  of  the  classical  culture,  degenerated  into  mere 
teachers  of  dead  languages,  the  reaction  known  as  realism 
made  its  appearance.  Realism  is  not  a  protest  against  human- 
ism as  the  study  of  humanity,  but  rather  against  humanism  as 
linguistic.  Its  motto  is  "things  rather  than  words,"  and  es- 
pecially "things  before  words."  Thus  the  sciences,  con- 
ceived as  the  study  of  things,  came  to  be  opposed  to  the  human- 
ities. But  the  study  of  human  nature  or  of  social  life,  or  of 
history  or  literature  or  of  art  itself  may  be  scientific,  indeed, 
quite  as  scientific  as  the  study  of  physical  nature.  The  rec- 
ognition of  this  fact  has  gone  far  toward  rendering  the  dis- 
tinction between  science  and  the  humanities  of  less  impor- 
tance than  it  was. 

The  humani-       One  other  interesting  aspect  of  this  distinction  remains. 
earliest*116    Frequently  in  earlier  sections1  the  point  has  been  made  that 
studies  to    mankind  first  directed  his  intellectual  efforts  to  the  mastery 
effidency     °f  social  processes,  leaving  physical  nature  to  be  dealt  with  by 
methods  to  the  devising  of  which  the  higher  activities  of  intel- 
ligence were  not  persistently  applied.     Success  has,  in  general, 
been  attained  far  more  easily  by  the  management  of  men 
inferior  in  mind  and  will  than  by  the  attempt  to  control  nature 
effectively.     Even  where  advances  in  power  over  the  physical 
world  have  been  made  by  scientific  insight,  the  advantages 
that  came  from  them  were  as  a  rule  exploited  by  the  social 
overlords,  very  much  as  to-day  the  inventor  is  apt  to  serve  the 
material  interests  of  his  business  manager  rather  than  his  own. 
In  consequence,  education  and  intellectual  progress  for  the 

1  Compare  §  14. 


Analysis  of  the  Educational  Agencies        437 

ambitious  and  the  intelligent,  or  what  is  the  same  thing,  for 
the  privileged  class,  the  aristocracy,  has  tended  to  be  in  the 
humanities  rather  than  in  the  physical  sciences.  The  science 
and  art  of  social  control  far  outran  physical  science  and  inven- 
tion. Although  not  presenting  their  lessons  in  methodical 
form,  the  literature,  art,  history,  travel,  court  life,  etc.,  by  which 
the  aristocrat  received  his  education,  were  replete  with  practical 
suggestions  as  to  how  best  to  live  in  order  to  carry  out  the  tradi- 
tions of  his  stock.  Thus  the  humanities  were  in  essence  social 
science,  and  this  was  the  science  of  the  privileged  class.  Mod- 
ern physical  science  for  centuries  after  it  appeared  had  not 
made  many  inroads  into  the  field  of  practice,  and  could  not 
compare  with  the  traditional  humane  culture  as  a  source  of 
efficiency  to  any  class,  especially  to  an  aristocracy. 

It  is  seen  that  the  issue  of  the  humanities  versus  the  sciences 
links  itself  with  that  of  liberal  versus  vocational  education, 
and  also  to  some  extent  with  that  of  the  relation  between 
academic  and  practical  subjects.  The  question  will,  therefore, 
be  resumed  as  a  phase  of  the  future  treatment  of  these  latter 
topics.  The  issue  of  disciplinary  versus  content  subjects 
is  similarly  interconnected  with  these  other  problems.  We 
have  already  considered  the  history  of  this  question,1  but  it 
may  be  worth  while  to  note  the  alliance  between  disciplinary  Reasons  for 
study  and  both  aristocratic  and  academic  education.  en^y  ^ 

Three  reasons  may  be  offered  for  the  tendency  for  aristocratic     aristocratic 

education 

education   to   become   disciplinary.     In   the  first  place,   the  to  become 

social  training  in  aristocratic  schools  is  so  largely  dependent  ^lpUr 

upon  the  general  forms  of  intercourse  which  there  prevail  that  (l)  Minor  5m- 

the  curriculum  tends  to  be  regarded  as  of  minor  importance  p^)r^ice 

both  by  the  pupils  and  the  community.     What  really  counts  curriculum 

is  that  the  children  should  learn  how  to  behave  with  their  J."aat"cst( 

peers,  how  to  get  on  with  them,  to  be  imbued  with  their  spirit  schools; 

1  Compare  §  32. 


438 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)  natural 
association 
of  aristo- 
cratic cul- 
ture with 
severity; 


andjdeals,  and  to  be  capable  of  assuming,  in  consequence,  a 
position  of  leadership.  Thus  the  child  went  to  the  great 
English  Public  School,  not  primarily  to  become  a  master  of 
the  classical  languages,  but  rather  to  be  trained  into  an  English 
gentleman.  Under  these  conditions  a  curriculum  the  content 
value  of  which  it  would  have  been  hard  to  defend  was,  never- 
theless, tolerated,  partly  because  it  was  not  regarded  as  the 
main  thing,  partly  because  it  had  prestige,  and  partly  because 
aristocracies  are  so  conservative  that  they  dislike  to  part  with 
anything  sanctioned  by  tradition.  Indeed,  they  found  some 
value  in  the  ability  to  use  the  ancient  tongues,  in  that  such  a 
power  was  the  mark  of  an  aristocrat,  a  badge  to  be  acquired 
only  by  the  select.  On  the  other  hand,  the  schoolmasters 
themselves,  who  could  not  be  content  with  the  view  that  the 
curriculum  was  comparatively  unimportant,  or  useful  mainly 
because  fashionable,  urged  its  disciplinary  value,  and  taught 
it  largely  with  that  end  in  view. 

A  second  reason  for  the  alliance  of  liberal  and  disciplinary 
education  is  found  in  the  natural  association  of  both  with  the 
ideal  of  severity.  Discipline  has  always  been  thought  of  as 
the  doing  of  hard  things,  things  that  are  done,  not  from  pleas- 
ure, but  from  duty,  sometimes  things  that  are  done  just  because 
they  are  hard  and  the  doing  of  them  is  judged  to  be  good  for 
the  soul  or  for  the  powers  of  the  mind.  Now  in  its  beginnings 
liberal  education  was  typified  in  that  adolescent  training 
which  aimed  to  socialize  the  individual.1  An  important 
phase  of  this  socialization  was  the  ordeal,  which  was  supposed 
to  test  the  ability  of  the  initiate  to  undergo  the  hardship  and 
pain  that  might  fall  to  his  lot  in  carrying  out  his  duty  to  the 
society  which  he  was  about  to  enter.  Especially  when  this 
social  education  becomes  the  distinguishing  mark  of  a  govern- 
ing class  does  it  acquire  the  character  of  impressing  an  unusual 

1  Compare  §  13. 


Analysis  of  the  Educational  Agencies        439 

standard  of  courage  and  endurance  for  the  sake  of  honor  and 
glory.  The  Spartan,  the  Roman,  the  knightly  culture  savored 
much  of  the  discipline  of  severity.  Thus  it  is  natural  to  think 
that  any  education  designed  for  a  leading  class  must  worthily 
test  the  moral  and  mental  qualities  by  virtue  of  which  they 
rule.  It  must  be  a  discipline,  a  steeling  of  the  soul  to  heroism. 

Lastly,  we  note  that  liberal  education  is  designed  for  men  (3)  the  aris- 
whose  lives  present  the  greatest  variety  of  emergencies.    The 
governing  class  needs  above  all  a  training  that  fosters  the  power     culture  for 
to  readjust,  rather  than  the  mechanical  one  that  fits  a  man     *tyapt 
for  a  specific  vocation.     The  difficulty,  already  noted,  of  select- 
ing the  content  subjects  of  greatest  relative  value  for  such 
culture  as  this  leads  the  liberal  school  to  fall  back  on  a  dis- 
cipline that  is  supposed  to  train  the  powers  of  the  mind  without 
reference  to  the  subject  matter  which  is  taught.    As  life  is 
always  most  complex  for  those  who  stand  at  the  front  of  prog- 
ress, so  the  demand  for  ideal  or  rational  education  appears  first 
among  the  leading  classes,  and  the  conception  of  disciplinary 
training  is,  as  it  were,  the  false  dawn  that  precedes  the  rise  of  a 
liberal  culture  the  content  of  which  is  adapted  to  facilitate  the 
treatment  of  new  situations. 

As  regards  the  relation  between  disciplinary  and  academic  Discipline  as 
culture,  it  may  be  noted  that  whenever  knowledge  that  has 
confessedly,  nay  proudly,  divorced  itself  from  practice  finds 
itself  in  default  of  any  utilities  to  which  to  appeal,  it  usually     ture 
invokes  that  of  discipline.     This  defense  ordinarily  satisfies 
the  critics,  and  permits  academic  culture  to  go  on  without 
further  challenge.     Here  the  notion  of  discipline  plays  its  usual 
role  as  a  bulwark  of  defense  for  those  whose  weapons  of  offense 
are  not  of  a  kind  to  encourage  them  to  seek  battle  in  the  open 
field. 


CHAPTER  XV 


The  school 
a  result 
of  the  ex- 
pansion of 
culture 


Adolescent 
training, 
written 
language, 
and  the 
school. 

The  school 
as  a  cause 
of  better 
and  more 
culture 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SCHOOL 

SECTION  49.     The  differentiation  of  the  school 

THE  institutions  of  society  are  in  their  evolution  subject  to 
the  law  of  differentiation  and  integration  which  Spencer  makes 
so  fundamental  in  this  process.  As  it  separates  itself  from 
the  common  mass  of  customs  in  primitive  human  inter- 
course, each  of  these  institutions  carries  with  it  the  function 
of  educating  men  in  the  ideals  and  practices  peculiar  to  it.  The 
method  of  teaching  is  at  first  simply  that  of  causing  the  young 
to  take  part  in  the  institutional  life  that  is  to  be  mastered. 
The  differentiation  of  the  school  is  primarily  the  result  of  the 
appearance  of  forms  of  culture  which  institutional  life  and 
general  social  intercourse  cannot  give  effectively  or  adequately 
without  the  aid  of  some  special  agency  for  education. 

We  have  already  noted  the  origin  of  the  school  from  the 
special  exercises  of  adolescence  among  primitive  men,1  and  from 
the  development  of  written  language.2  The  exercises  of  ado- 
lescence were  largely  the  product  of  a  growing  conviction  that 
there  should  be  some  conscious,  specific,  and  impressive  effort 
to  initiate  young  men  and  young  women  into  the  duties  and 
customs  to  which  they  were  expected  to  conform  when  they 
assumed  full  membership  in  the  tribe.  The  differentiation  of 
this  training  makes  it  effective.  It  also  opens  the  way  for  an 
expansion  in  amount  of  training  beyond  what  is  given  through 


1  Compare  §  13. 


2  Compare  §  14. 


440 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  441 

merely  partaking  in  institutional  life.     The  exercises  have 
been  grouped  under  (i)  ordeals,  (2)  initiatory  rites,  (3)  drill, 
(4)  instruction  in  tribal  traditions,  laws,  and  beliefs.    The 
two  latter  factors  are  especially  capable  of  expansion.     In  a  increase  of 
military  society,  drill  may  come  to  be  a  matter  of  several  years     dri11 
of  training.     Indeed,  when  with  the  specific  military  exercises 
there  is  joined  gymnastic  culture  preparatory  to  them,  such  as 
we  find  among  the  Spartans,  the  whole  may  fill  the  entire  period 
from  early  childhood  to  adolescence. 
But  if  the  drill  is  capable  of  expansion,  the  fourth  element  increase  of 


in  these  adolescent  exercises,  viz.,  the   instruction   in    tribal      ^"^  m" 

struction 

traditions,  laws,  and  beliefs,  is  still  more  potential  for  growth. 
With  this  growth  there  usually  goes  the  development  of  a 
learned  class.  Since  religion  plays  such  an  important  part  in 
early  learning,  the  learned  class  is  ordinarily  a  priesthood. 
This  class  often  constitutes  an  hereditary  caste,  as  Brahmans, 
Chaldees,  or  Levites.  It  may  be  even  more  important  in  gov- 
ernment than  the  military  class  or  caste,  especially  where 
settled  conditions  prevail,  as  in  China  or  India,  or  it  may 
itself  be  identified  with  the  military  class,  as  among  the  Greeks 
or  Romans 

The  school  becomes  indispensable  as  an  auxiliary  to  the  pres-  Learning  be- 
ervation  of  the  ideas  and  practices  of  a  learned  class  when  once 
this  learning  becomes  embodied  in  written  language.  The 
ideographs  of  early  forms  of  writing  are  in  the  beginning  simple, 
but  when  they  come  to  cover  a  wide  range  of  objects  the  labor 
of  learning  a  separate  symbol  for  each  word  becomes  enormous. 
Thus  the  work  of  the  school  accumulates.  The  very  difficulty 
of  this  work  tends  to  render  learning  more  and  more  exclusive, 
the  esoteric  property  of  a  learned  class,  who  strive  to  express 
its  teachings  in  prescriptions  to  the  uncultured,  and  who  cher- 
ish the  detail  of  their  culture  as  the  source  of  their  prestige  and 
power. 


442  Principles  of  Education 

Control  of  The  learned  class  that  is  thus  differentiated  may  be  a  govern- 
famii'y  orby  in3  c^ass  or  tke  mere  servant  of  such  a  class.  In  any  case, 
caste  since  early  culture  is  of  primary  importance  for  social  control, 
the  governing  class  in  the  community  must  retain  a  grip  upon 
it.  So  far  the  school,  although  it  may  be  differentiated  from 
the  family,  is  yet  under  its  control.  Children  are  trained  ac- 
cording to  their  hereditary  status,  and  the  dominant  family 
or  group  of  families  in  the  community  prescribes  the  culture 
that  the  school  shall  give.  Indeed,  in  early  civilization  the 
family  is  almost  invariably  the  supreme  institution.  Not 
only  the  education  of  the  child,  but  also  his  religion  and  his 
status  in  church  or  state,  depend  upon  heredity;  that  is, 
upon  family  relationship.  Where  government  is  in  the  hands 
of  hereditary  classes,  there  the  state  is,  in  effect,  only  a  sort  of 
a  family. 

The  first  phase  of  the  differentiation  of  the  school  may  be 

said,  then,  to  consist  in  the  accumulation  of  culture  material 

Phases  in  the  and  the  appearance  of  a  special  class  of  men  who  devote  them- 

tionoTthe"  selves  to  the  business  of  teaching.     The  second  phase  involves 

school         the  growth  of  a  culture  that  is  dissociated  from  family  interests, 

and  the  gradual  development  of  a  school  not  in  the  service  of 

privileged  classes.     In  this  step  the  fortunes  of  the  school  have 

been  allied  with  those  of  the  church  and  the  state  in  their 

struggle  for  distinctness  and  independence  from  the  family. 

Finally,  the  school  has  broken  loose  from  the  church,  and  in 

alliance  with  the  democratic  state  has  assumed  more  and  more 

complete  and  independent  control  of  the  work  of  education. 

We  have  yet  to  analyze  a  little  more  completely  the  two  latter 

movements. 

Second  The  second  phase  of  the  differentiation  of  the  school  can  be 

Rise  of  c  1  m  ^s  beginnings  well  illustrated  in  classical  antiquity.  Among 
ture  not  to  the  Greeks  the  education  was  at  first  strictly  subordinated  to 
trolled  "by  the  interests  and  ideals  of  the  dominant  class.  The  growth 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  443 

of  learning  produced,  however,  two  new  types  of  culture,  each  thegovem- 
of  which  tended  to  lift  the  teaching  class  out  of  its  position  of 
subordination.  These  were  philosophy  and  oratory.  Philos-  Philosophy 
ophy  included  a  great  range  of  subjects,  metaphysics,  ethics,  ^a^pie 
politics,  and  the  existent  sciences.  The  pursuit  of  these  studies 
led  men,  on  the  one  hand,  to  question  the  wisdom  and  the 
justice  of  the  prevailing  social  order,  or,  on  the  other,  to  become 
interested  in  the  intellectual  life  as  a  pursuit  of  leisure.  The 
first  effect  put  the  sophist,  or  wise  teacher,  in  the  position  of 
knowing  many  things  of  which  the  socially  ambitious  could  not 
afford  to  be  ignorant,  something  for  which  he  was  willing  to 
give  pay  both  in  honor  and  wealth.  The  second  effect  made  the 
philosopher  entirely  independent  of  worldly  affairs,  since  he 
found  in  his  pursuit  of  wisdom  an  adequate  career.  To  a 
civilization  that  idealized  a  life  of  leisure  the  sage  had  some- 
thing not  to  be  commanded,  but  rather  to  be  eagerly  sought. 
Thus  in  both  ways  the  rise  of  philosophy  tended  to  put  the 
learned  or  wise  man,  the  teacher,  in  a  position  of  control  rather 
than  of  subordination.  He  rose  above  the  status  of  a  mere 
instrument  of  the  privileged  class  in  its  work  of  social  control. 

In  a  similar  way,  oratory  gave  the  sophist  a  measure  of  inde-  Oratory  as  an 
pendence.  His  art  was  an  accomplishment  through  which 
the  possessor,  even  if  he  were  a  mere  common  man,  was  able 
to  win  political  and  legal  success.  Hence,  the  teacher  of  ora- 
tory could  command  patronage.  In  his  possession  was  an 
instrument  of  social  control  that  the  aristocrat  could  not  domi- 
nate, but  must  seek,  or  be  worsted  by  one  who,  although  in- 
ferior in  rank,  was  superior  in  social  skill.  The  sophist,  whether 
teacher  of  philosophy  or  of  oratory,  was  disliked  by  the  old 
aristocracy,  but  he  was  not  easily  to  be  put  down,  and,  since 
in  his  hands  there  was  a  culture  which  was  not  the  servant  of 
hereditary  privilege,  he  lifted  the  school  into  a  measure  of  inde- 
pendence of  the  family. 


444 


Principles  of  Education 


Continued 
independ- 
ence of 
learning  in 
the  im- 
perial age 
of  Rome 


Further 
growth  of 
this  inde- 
pendence 
with  Chris- 
tianity 


After  Greece  lost  its  independence,  its  schools  of  oratory  and 
philosophy,  being  cosmopolitan,  still  retained  their  appeal. 
Athens  was  transformed  from  a  capital  into  an  university. 
"Captive  Greece  took  captive  her  rude  conqueror."  With  the 
growth  of  imperialism  and  militarism  the  political  uses  of  this 
higher  culture  became  less  important,  but  philosophy  and 
letters  retained  their  attractiveness  as  pursuits  worth  while 
for  their  own  sake.  Through  them  the  individual,  whether 
he  were  an  Epictetus,  inspiring  a  life  of  slavery  with  a  profound 
moral  ideal,  or  an  Aurelius,  worn  out  by  the  cares  of  state, 
but  ever  refreshed  and  strengthened  by  philosophic  medita- 
tion, or  a  Boethius,  ending  a  career  of  greatness  in  a  dungeon, 
found  refuge  from  the  arbitrary  fortunes  of  worldly  affairs. 
Thus  the  schoolmaster  who  taught  this  higher  culture  became 
an  independent  factor  among  the  conflicting  interests  of  men, 
and  the  school  that  he  represented  appealed  to  the  individual 
without  reference  to  his  relations  to  any  other  social  institu- 
tion. 

The  establishment  of  Christianity  meant  the  exaltation  and 
the  popularizing  of  this  higher  life  apart  from  worldly  interests. 
The  new  cosmopolitan  religion  absorbed  the  function  of  pre- 
serving and  teaching  the  learned  culture.  Rejecting  much, 
it  at  the  same  time  saved  the  essence  of  Platonic  philosophy 
in  its  theology  and  the  essence  of  the  Stoic  theory  of  conduct 
in  its  morals.  Above  all,  it  emphasized  far  more  than  even 
those  highest  products  of  ancient  intellectual  and  moral  culture 
the  inner  life,  now  conceived  as  the  life  of  the  soul,  rather  than 
that  of  the  intellect.  In  this  life,  the  life  alone  with  God,  even 
the  humblest  believer  was  held  to  partake.  Spiritual  welfare 
meant  not  wealth  nor  rank  nor  anything  pertaining  to  the 
world,  but  rather  that  inner  unity  of  the  soul  with  the  Father 
in  which  alone  was  found  something  of  eternal  value.  On  such 
a  view,  learned  education  became  intensely  individualistic 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  445 

and  remote  from  social  concerns.  Although  indirectly  religion 
was  here,  as  always,  a  tremendous  factor  in  social  control,  its 
professed  ideal  was  unworldly  rather  than  that  of  fostering  the 
interests  of  any  community  or  even  the  secular  interests  of  the 
universal  man. 

Its  alliance  with  the  church  rendered  learned  culture  quite 
independent  of  family.  Christianity  aimed  to  set  the  son 
against  the  father,  if  the  father  were  not  a  Christian.  It 
regarded  the  individual  as  a  child  of  God  rather  than  of  man, 
an  heir  to  immortality  rather  than  to  a  mere  visible  body. 
In  the  eyes  of  the  church  human  parentage  counted  as  nothing 
for  salvation,  and  hence  the  education  that  was  concerned  in 
spiritual  matters  must  be  free  to  all  who  wished  it.  Thus  the 
church  became  the  advocate  of  universal  education,  so  far  as 
religious  matters  were  concerned. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  independence  of  education  from  the  instruction 
family  concerned  only  its  religious  aspect.     The  school  sep- 
arates itself  from  its  parent  and  early  master  by  restricting      mainly  re- 
the  subject  matter  of  its  instruction,  and  by  becoming  adopted 


bv  the  church.     This  dependence  of  education  upon  religious      such  in- 

.  r      i  •    i  struction 

institutions  rendered  it  a  servant  of  the  social  and  worldly  by  special 
interests  of  churches,  whenever  such  ambitions  took  possession 
of  the  professed  guardians  of  the  soul.  Thus,  both  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  limitation  of  its  subject  matter  and  that 
of  its  control  by  an  institution  with  other  than  educational 
interests,  the  alliance  of  church  and  school  was  ultimately 
unsatisfactory  to  the  latter. 

The  complete  differentiation  of  the  school  has  come  about  Third  phase 
through  the  gradual  growth  of  secular  learning,  and  the  accom- 


panying  assumption  of  national  control  over  education,  in      tfonofthe 
order  that  this  culture  might  be  adequately  fostered  and  justly 
distributed  to  the  young.     We  may  note  the  following  phases 
in  the  development  of  secular  learning  :  — 


446  Principles  of  Education 

The  growth         (i)  Scholasticism  and  the  Renaissance  led  to  the  develop- 

of  secular    men|-  of  a  mass  of  philosophy  and  science  that  was  essentially 

secular  in  character.     This  culture  caused  the  differentiation 

Philosophy  in  the  universities  of  Europe  of  the  department  of  philosophy 
e  from  that  of  theology.  It  also  found  its  way  into  the  second- 
ary schools  of  the  Renaissance. 

Law  and  (2)  The  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  witnessed  the  revival 

medicine  of  jaw  ancj  medicine,  so  that  they  assumed  the  dignity  that 
they  had  gained  among  the  Romans.  This  was  due  to  the 
growth  of  new  political  and  social  conditions  that  favored  their 
practice,  to  the  gradual  accumulation  of  a  body  of  learning  in 
each  field,  and  especially  to  the  recovery  of  the  treatises  on  law 
and  medicine  by  the  ancients.  Thus  two  secular  departments  of 
learning  appeared  in  the  medieval  university  as  soon  as  it  was 
founded,  or,  at  least,  shortly  after.  In  consequence,  although 
under  the  church,  it  was  largely  devoted  to  secular  learning. 

The  humani-  (3)  The  Renaissance  created  or  brought  into  prominence  a 
mass  of  literature,-  history,  philosophy,  etc.,  that  appealed 
strongly  to  the  aristocracy,  partly  because  of  a  change  in  politi- 
cal and  social  conditions,  such  as  the  development  of  court  life 
and  of  diplomacy  and  the  accumulation  of  wealth,  and  partly 
because  of  the  slow  but  continuous  development  of  taste.  The 
revival  of  the  ancient  literature  served  as  food  for  this  new 
appetite,  and  afforded  a  nucleus  for  humanistic  education, 
which  became  practically  the  sole  form  of  culture  in  the  sec- 
ondary schools. 

Literacy  for  (4)  Protestantism  emphasized  the  importance  of  literacy 
for  all,  thus  urging  the  need  for  the  creation  of  common  schools. 
This  literacy  was,  it  is  true,  conceived  to  be  a  necessary  phase 
of  religious  culture,  inasmuch  as  it  furnished  the  foundation 
for  that  first-hand  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  deemed  requi- 
site if  each  one  were  to  exercise  his  right  and  duty  of  private 
judgment  on  matters  of  religion.  However,  the  ability  to  read 


The  Evolution  of  tJte  School  447 

and  write  is  in  itself  a  secular  rather  than  a  religious  accom- 
plishment, and  any  attempt  to  render  it  universal  involves 
elaborate  provisions  on  the  part  of  the  community  for  secular 
training.  Thus  religion  led  the  way  in  promoting  the  giving  of 
culture  that  ultimately  found  its  main  value  in  worldly  affairs. 

(5)  The  application  of  science  to  the  vocations  transformed  Scientific  in- 
many  that  were  only  trades  into  true  professions,  and  some 
occupations  that  were  entirely  unskilled  into  trades  involving      cation 
considerable  scientific  knowledge.     The  mass  of  workers  in  the 
occupations  vitalized  by  science  came  to  use  their  brains  quite 

as  much  as  their  hands,  and,  in  order  that  they  might  do  this 
effectively,  a  preliminary  school  training  became  increasingly 
necessary.  Moreover,  the  breaking  down  of  the  apprentice 
system  tended  to  compel  the  school  to  assume  vocational 
training  hitherto  intrusted  to  that  agency,  so  that  the  school  is 
now  called  upon  to  give,  not  only  the  additional  preparation 
that  present  as  compared  with  past  methods  require  for  a 
vocation,  but  also  much  of  that  preparation  that  was  formerly 
gained  by  the  child  while  carrying  on  the  activities  of  the 
vocation  itself. 

(6)  The  rise  of  popular  forms  of  government  has  created  a  Training  in 
need  for  training  in  the  duties  of  citizenship.     On  the  ground 

that  it  was  necessary  in  order  to  give  this  training,  Horace 
Mann  first  urged  the  importance  of  more  liberal  state  support  of 
schools  in  the  United  States.  Republican  government,  he  con- 
tended, demanded  a  special  culture  for  the  enfranchised  masses. 

(7)  In  addition  to  universal  education  in  literacy,  in  science  Universal 
as  a  basis  for  the  vocation,  and  in  civics,  modern  democratic 

life  has  brought  about  democratization  of  culture  in  art,  lit- 
erature, history,  and  science  apart  from  that  which  is  utilized 
in  the  vocation.  What  the  Renaissance  aimed  to  give  to  the 
aristocracy,  modern  education  aims  to  transmit  in  a  measure 
to  all. 


448 


Principles  of  Education 


The  nation- 
alization 
of  educa- 
tion. 
Reasons 
for  it 


Steps  in  this 
process 

The    univer- 
sities be- 
come iden- 
tified with 
the  nations 


The  growth  of  all  this  secular  culture  and  its  incorporation 
into  the  curriculum  brought  with  it  the  nationalization  of  in- 
struction. Three  reasons  may  be  offered  for  this.  In  the  first 
place,  secular  instruction,  in  order  to  secure  its  privileges  and 
its  relative  importance,  felt  the  need  of  placing  itself  under  the 
protection  and  ultimately  the  control  of  the  state.  Only  in 
this  way  could  philosophy  and  science,  the  humanities  and 
vocational  culture  shake  themselves  free  from  the  ecclesiastical 
or  the  denominational  control  that  inevitably  tended  to  empha- 
size culture  in  religion,  and  especially  in  orthodoxy,  at  their 
expense.  Secondly,  the  extraordinary  increase  in  the  work  to 
be  done  by  the  school  gradually  forced  the  state,  as  the  most 
powerful  and  the  most  resourceful  institution  of  society,  to 
undertake  this  educational  task,  with  which  it  alone  was  able 
to  cope.  Lastly,  the  growth  of  the  democratic  idea  that 
secular  education,  like  the  religious  education  of  Christianity, 
should  be  distributed  justly  to  all  made  it  necessary  for  the 
state  to  do  what  private  or  religious  agencies  must  inevitably 
fail  properly  to  attain,  since,  even  when  they  are  animated  by 
the  motive  of  charity,  they  are,  after  all,  kindest  to  their  own. 

This  process  of  nationalizing  education  presents  the  follow- 
ing interesting  historical  stages  :  — 

(i)  The  University  Charter.1  —  The  medieval  universities 
were  chartered  both  by  the  Pope  and  by  the  temporal  sovereign 
in  the  territory  of  their  location.  The  former  charter  gave 
them  the  right  to  teach  and  to  grant  degrees  that  were  licenses 
to  teach.  The  latter  gave  them  certain  civil  and  political 
privileges,  corresponding  in  general  to  the  benefit  of  clergy. 
Now,  although  the  educational  function  is  here  exercised  in  the 
name  of  the  church,  and  by  virtue  of  authority  derived  there- 
from, nevertheless,  the  chartering  of  a  special  educational 
institution  meant  the  separation  of  the  educational  function 
1  Compare  Rashdall,  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages. 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  449 

from  the  ecclesiastical  one,  so  far  as  the  university  was  con- 
cerned. This  differentiation  led  to  further  educational  inde- 
pendence, an  independence  which  the  political  charter  of  the 
university  tended  to  emphasize  and  support.  The  long 
struggle  at  the  University  of  Paris  between  the  Faculties  and 
the  Chancellor,  who  represented  the  church,  —  a  struggle 
the  outcome  of  which  was  a  practical  victory  on  the  part  of  the 
University,  —  is  typical  of  a  conflict  that  went  on  all  over 
Europe.  It  tended  to  identify  the  university,  as  a  place  where 
philosophy  was  taught  as  well  as  theology,  where  the  prac- 
titioners of  law  and  medicine  were  trained  as  well  as  the  priest, 
with  the  nation  in  the  territory  of  which  it  was  situated,  and 
to  reduce  the  amount  of  control  that  the  central  authorities 
of  the  church  exercised. 

(2)  State  and  Private  Support  of  Renaissance  Secondary  Schools.  Secondary 
—  The  humanistic   culture   created  its  own  schools.     Some 


come  under 

of  these,  such  as  the  colleges  of  the  Jesuits,  were  closely  under  state  con- 
religious  control.  All,  however,  were  at  least  partially  differen- 
tiated from  the  ecclesiastical  organization  of  the  church.  Some 
were  fostered  by  private  endowments,  by  the  nobility,  by 
princes,  or  by  municipalities.  All  of  these  tended  to  come  under 
national  control. 

(3)  The  Rise  of  National  Churches.  —  The  Protestant  move-  National  con- 
ment   brought    the    church   largely   under   national   control,      church  af- 
The  head  of  the  state  became  the  head  of  the  church  within      fectsthe 

school 

his  dominions.  As  such,  he  controlled  education  as  well  as 
other  spiritual  affairs.1  When  the  function  of  educational  con- 
trol, support,  and  supervision  became  more  extensive,  it  became 
practically  distinct  from  that  of  religion. 

(4)  The  Establishment  of  National  Systems  to  promote  Univer-  Universal 

sal  Civic  and  Industrial  Efficiency.  —  Four  distinct  reasons  may     jar  educa- 

tion in  the 

1  In  the  German  states  to-day  education  and  spiritual  affairs  belong  to  the       nineteenth 
same  department.  century 

2G 


450 


Principles  of  Education 


be  noted  for  this  interest  on  the  part  of  the  state  in  universal 
its  causes  education.  First,  in  the  development  of  nationalities  like  that 
of  Germany  to-day,  education  was  recognized  as  a  most  im- 
portant agency  for  rousing  patriotism,  developing  the  national 
sense,  and  promoting  that  citizenship  which  would  best  make 
for  national  solidarity,  welfare,  and  glory.  The  state  could 
from  interested  motives  concern  itself  in  fostering  an  educa- 
tion that  furthered  national  political  purposes.  Second,  in 
democracies  we  have  another  case  of  the  growth  of  national 
education  as  a  means  of  social  control.  The  early  argument 
for  liberal  state  support  of  education  is  based  on  the  supposed 
need  of  general  intelligence  and  culture  among  the  citizens,  if 
the  nation  were  to  be  saved  from  the  arts  of  the  corruptionist 
and  the  demagogue.1  Third,  in  the  modern  commercial  and 
industrial  rivalry  of  states  many  nations  have  come  to  feel  that 
success  depends  largely  on  efficient  education  in  the  scientific 
foundations  of  trade,  manufacturing,  agriculture,  mining, 
building,  transportation,  and  engineering.  Hence  the  extraor- 
dinary development  of  schools  for  such  instruction  by  Euro- 
pean states.  Finally,  the  state  is  rapidly  coming  to  feel  that 
it  should  cultivate  this  increased  efficiency  on  the  part  of  its 
citizens,  not  only  because  such  a  gain  makes  for  national  great- 
ness, but  also  because  it  brings  about  an  increase  in  the  individ- 
ual welfare  which  it  is  the  business  of  the  state  to  foster.  Thus 
the  nation  comes  to  do  in  the  service  of  the  individual  that 
which  it  first  undertook  in  order  to  serve  itself. 

ummary  In  reviewing  the  process  by  which  the  school  is  differentiated 

from  the  other  social  institutions,  we  notice  these  aspects  : 
the  effect  of  accumulating  culture  in  forcing  the  educational 
function  to  become  specialized  ;  the  subordination  of  the  school 
to  family,  church,  or  state  in  their  endeavor  to  use  its  culture 

1  Compare  Horace  Mann,  Necessity  of  Education  in  a  Republican  Government, 
and  the  views  of  Washington  and  Jefferson. 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  451 

as  a  source  of  social  control ;  and  the  gaining  of  freedom  by 
the  school  through  the  rise  of  ''academic"  culture  and  of  cul- 
ture of  value  primarily  to  the  efficiency  of  the  individual  rather 
than  to  the  supremacy  of  a  privileged  class.  The  differen- 
tiating effect  of  additions  to  the  subject  matter  of  culture 
is  illustrated  continuously  through  educational  history.  In 
the  beginning,  it  brought  about  the  learned  class  and  the  school. 
Later,  the  rise  of  academic  culture  enabled  the  learned  class 
to  break  loose  from  the  control  of  privileged  classes.  Ulti- 
mately, the  school  allied  itself  with  the  church  and  became 
excessively  unworldly,  so  unworldly  that  in  its  zeal  for  the 
eternal  interests  of  the  individual  it  often  forgot  his  temporal 
ones,  if,  indeed,  they  were  not  consciously  overlooked  and 
abused.  Democratic  as  the  church  was  in  spiritual  affairs, 
it  could  yet  defend  the  doctrine  of  the  "divine  rights  of  kings" 
and  enter  into  a  fierce  struggle  for  temporal  power.  The  rise 
of  the  modern  type  of  education  for  efficiency  meant  educa- 
tional ideals  and  materials  which  concern  the  welfare  of  the 
individual  rather  than  that  of  any  special  class  or  institution. 
Hence,  it  led  to  the  complete  differentiation  of  the  school. 
To  gain  this  independence  it  allied  itself  with  the  state.  This 
institution,  although  at  first  it  made  use  of  education  to  pro- 
mote national  ends,  such  as  self-preservation,  glory,  or  wealth, 
has  ultimately  come  to  permit  the  school  to  devote  itself 
solely  to  the  task  of  affording  to  the  individual  that  culture 
which  seems  best  calculated  to  secure  his  personal  welfare. 

SECTION  50.     The  rise  of  academic  freedom 

The  question  of  the  differentiation  of  the  school  is  so  closely  Three  phases 
bound  up  with  that  of  its  independence  that  the  preceding      jei^P 
section  has  constantly  trenched  on  the  ground  of  this  one.      freedom 
Much,  however,  remains  to  be  said  on  the  latter  topic,  a  topic 


45  2  Principles  of  Education 

commonly  discussed  as  the  question  of  academic  freedom. 
This  conception  has,  as  is  to  be  expected,  undergone  an  evolu- 
tion, which  has  revealed  from  time  to  time  such  new  phases  of 
scholastic  independence  as  the  special  emergencies  of  certain 
historical  periods  brought  into  dispute.  Three  aspects  of 
academic  freedom  may  be  noted.  It  has  meant  successively 
freedom  of  investigation,  freedom  of  teaching,  and  freedom 
in  determining  the  nature  and  scope  of  education,  a  conception 
which  only  in  recent  times  is  receiving  clear  recognition  and 
formulation. 

(i)  Freedom  It  may  be  thought  that  freedom  of  investigation  does  not 
concern  the  school.  For,  although  investigation  continually 
recreates  the  curriculum,  it  is  not  a  necessary  function  of  the 
teacher.  Nevertheless,  historically,  the  learning  that  the 
school  imparts  has  been  very  considerably  the  product  of  those 

The  school  as  who  are  in  this  profession.     Beginning  as  mere  guardians  of 

hiv'stf  a***  soc^a^  heredity,  they  have  gone  on  to  study  more  deeply  the 

tion  sources,  the  meaning,  and  the  truth  or  justice  of  that  which 

they  have  taught.     From  teachers  they  have  become  investi- 

gators, and  no  field  of  human  action  or  thought  has  evaded 

their  researches. 

The  school  as  On  the  other  hand,  the  school  has  often  resisted  the  progress 
°f  investigation.  This  is  especially  true  when  it  comes  under 


tion,  as  the  ^g  control  of  certain  institutions  or  classes  that  use  it  to  further 

judge  of  .  .  .  .  __ 

theperma-  or  to  preserve  established  practices  or  positions.  However, 
ien°kieL  smce  the  success  of  new  ideas  depends  largely  upon  their  being 
accepted  by  the  school  and  thus  grafted  on  social  heredity, 
it  may  be  said  that  the  products  of  investigation  must  ulti- 
mately meet  the  approval  of  this  institution  before  they  really 
become  current.  In  the  progress  of  time,  the  school  has  come 
consciously  to  assume  both  the  role  of  investigator  and  that  of 
the  judge  of  investigators.  The  result  has  usually  been  a  con- 
flict between  the  leaders  among  the  learned  class  and  certain 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  453 

dominant  social  orders  that  from  characteristic  conservatism 

or  from  fear  that  their  privileges  or  power  will  be  curtailed  are 

apt  to  resist  all  changes.     We  find  such  a  struggle  among  the 

Greeks  at  the  time  of  the  Sophists,  among  the  Romans  of  the 

age  of  Cicero  in  resisting  the  inroads  of  Greek  culture.     Espe- 

cially important,  however,  is  the  conflict  roused  by  the  gradual 

advances  of  the  school  in  philosophy  and  later  in  science  since 

the  Dark  Ages.     From  its  beginning  the  medieval  university 

was  associated  with  the  application  of  reason  to  matters  of 

faith  ;  that  is,  with  philosophy  as  the  "handmaid  of  theology." 

Ultimately  science,  which  at  first  was  cultivated  rather  without 

than  within  the  school,  found  its  home  within  this  highest 

educational  institution.     The  result  of  these  advances  was  that 

again  and  again  the  university  was  compelled  to  fight  in  be- 

half of  its  right  to  pursue  its  own  intellectual  researches  ir- 

respective of  their  bearing  on  the  established  order  of  church 

or  state  or  the  privileges  of  aristocracy  or  wealth.    The  position 

of  dependence  in  which  it  has  been  placed  has  forced  it  to  com- 

promise these  contests.     The  usual  form  of  the  compromise  Restriction 

is  to  permit  the  school  to  investigate  freely,  but  to  forbid 

the  application  of  its  results  to  the  practice  or  beliefs  of  the     academic 

institutions  or  classes  that  are  able  to  control  it.     Thus,  what 

is  true  for  philosophy  is  held  to  be  false  for  theology.    Thus, 

science  was  tolerated  so  long  as  it  kept  to  purely  "academic" 

issues,  but  the  biologist  must  not  push  the  idea  of  evolution 

to  the  detriment  of  orthodoxy,  and  the  economist  or  the  soci- 

ologist must  not  teach  doctrines  at  variance  with  the  interests 

of  actual  or  prospective  donors  of  the  institution  that  pays  his 


Application 

It  is  true  that  other  conditions  beside  the  restrictions  of     of  the  re- 
controlling  agencies  have  conspired  to  render  the  school  aca- 


demic.     The  fact  that  science  frequently  requires  to  be  fairly     by  those 

...  outside  the 

well   advanced   before   any   large   practical   applications   are 


454 


Principles  of  Education 


The  rise  of 


moval  of 

tkmTf  'in- 
vestigation 

demic 


found  for  it  is  one  among  many  positive  causes  —  to  be  dis- 
cussed later  —  which  have  caused  the  school  to  limit  its  inter- 
est in  investigation  at  first  to  purely  academic  matters.  The 
result  of  this  separation  of  the  academic  from  the  practical 
has  been  that  the  applications  of  the  investigations  of  the 
school  have  seemed  to  come  largely  from  those  not  engaged 
in  education.  Such  persons  were  free  from  the  negative  restric- 
tions of  the  school,  and  their  positive  interests  were  usually 
in  application  rather  than  in  theory.  However,  philosophy 
and  science  are  both  bound  to  tend  toward  practice,  and  with 
the  rise  of  academic  freedom  the  school  has  come  to  show  quite 
as  much  interest  in  application  as  it  ever  has  in  knowledge 
for  its  own  sake. 

Thus  the  school  advanced  from  subordination  to  dominant 
grouPs  t°  a  freedom  the  practical  efficacy  of  which  was  paralyzed 
by  limiting  it  to  the  academic.  The  rise  of  the  democratic 
state  has  caused  this  restriction  to  be  very  largely  removed. 
^he  development  of  the  conception  that  government  should 
aim  at  the  largest  efficiency  for  all  and  that  this  result  can  come 
only  from  a  profound  knowledge  of  the  truth  has  led  to  the 
view  that  the  agencies  for  investigation  must  be  permitted  the 
widest  freedom,  and  that  they  must  concern  themselves  with 
practice  as  well  as  with  theory.  Indeed,  there  has  recently 
appeared  a  strong  tendency  to  create  special  institutions  of 
research  in  order  that  the  investigator  shall  not  be  hampered 
even  by  the  necessity  of  teaching.  Since  the  school,  on  the 
one  hand,  has  come  to  be  no  longer  feared  as  a  source  of  social 
or  religious  discontent  and,  on  the  other,  has  ceased  to  be 
disparaged  as  concerned  with  that  which  has  little  or  no  prac- 
tical importance,  it  has  succeeded  in  obtaining,  not  only  scho- 
lastic independence,  but  also  that  more  liberal  support  without 
which  a  real  independence  is  impossible. 

If  the  freedom  of  investigation  is  typified  in  the  liberty  of 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  455 

conscience,  the  freedom  of  teaching  may  be  regarded  as  a  (z)  Freedom 

phase  of  freedom  of    speech.     The  two  sorts  of    academic 

freedom  usually  involve  each  other.     What  one  thinks  he  implication 

usually  finds  it  nearly  impossible  not  to  express,  and  expres- 

sion is  always  in  effect  a  form  of  teaching.     Hence,  freedom  gation,  yet 

of  investigation  would  be  very  difficult  as  well  as  comparatively  may 


useless  unless  it  carried  with  it  the  right  to  make  known  what 

it  discovered.     However,  it  is  possible  for  investigation  to  be 

permitted  and,  indeed,  encouraged,  even  though  the  public 

expression  of  its  results  is  held  in  check.     History  reveals 

cases  where  what  a  teaching  class  knows  and  believes  is  quite 

distinct  from  what  it  is  permitted  freely  to  teach.     In  such  in- 

stances we  have  what  are  known  as  esoteric  views,  taught,  it 

is  true,  but  to  a  limited  number  of  the  elect.    A  body  of  learn-  Causes  of 

ing  may  become  esoteric  for  various  reasons.     It  may  be  held 

to  be  incomprehensible  to  the  average  individual,  and,  for  that 

reason,  be  taught  only  to  the  gifted  few.     Or  the  group  solidar- 

ity and  the  prestige  that  is  gained  by  any  select  body  from 

the  common  knowledge  of  certain  matters  kept  secret  from  the 

profane  may  lead  its  members  to  cherish  these  mysteries.     This 

motive  can  be  seen  in  the  secret  societies  of  primitive  men,  in 

the  religious  mysteries  of  the  ancients,  and  in  the  fraternal 

orders  of  to-day.     But  the  third  motive  that  causes  learning 

to  become  esoteric  is  probably  more  influential  than  either  of 

the  others.    When  men  of  active  intelligence  and  reflective 

life  come,  as  a  result  of  their  researches  and  meditations,  to 

entertain  beliefs  that  might  subvert  the  authority  or  the  privi- 

leges of  a  dominant  class,  they  must  as  a  matter  of  self-preser- 

vation keep   their  discoveries  to   themselves.     Especially  is 

this  so  when  they  themselves  constitute  a  group  the  prestige 

of  which  rests,  or  is  thought  to  rest,  on  the  continued  faith  of 

the  multitude  in  doctrines  which  they  have  ceased  to  hold. 

Even  in  our  own  age  of_freedom  men  give  in  their  external 


456  Principles  of  Education 

assent  to  practices  and  views  the  foundations  of  which  they 
do  not  regard  as  sound,  justifying  their  attitude  by  prudence, 
coupled,  perhaps,  with  cynical  contempt  of  those  whose  intel- 
lectual inferiority  permits  them  to  be  deceived. 

Value  of  Thus  men   permit   themselves,   or   are  permitted  by   the 

knowicfd  e  Powers  that  be,  to  investigate,  provided  they  do  not  spread 
as  esoteric  abroad  what  they  discover  in  case  it  is  subversive  of  power- 
fa)  check-  ful  institutions  or  privileges.  This  divorce  of  the  esoteric 
mg  ai-con-  from  that  which  is  publicly  taught  is  not  without  a  value.  In- 

sidered 

revolu-  deed,  we  may  say  the  same  of  the  restriction  of  the  school  to 
academic  investigation,  for  this  condition  doubtless  served  to 
concentrate  thought  upon  philosophy  and  science  for  their  own 
sake,  and  thus  to  make  possible  the  accumulation  of  a  mass 
of  knowledge  for  the  reconstruction  of  human  practice,  such 
as  could  not  have  been  obtained  had  the  investigator  kept 
himself  closely  to  researches  that  yield  results  which  can  im- 
mediately be  applied.  The  value  of  keeping  knowledge  as 
esoteric  may  be  found  in  that  in  this  form  it  is  not  too  hastily 
or  unwisely  applied  to  the  subversion  of  the  social  order.  This 
use  is  allied  to  the  function  of  superstition,  which  we  have 
earlier  indicated.1  As  superstition  may  prevent  reason  from 
resulting  in  anarchistic  individualism,  so  the  keeping  of  knowl- 
edge to  a  few  may  prevent  it  from  carrying  under  the  very 
social  agencies  that  have  brought  it  forth,  until  society  can 
reconstruct  itself  in  accordance  with  the  new  light.  Intellec- 
tual revolutions  affect  the  social  order  at  first  destructively. 
The  process  of  reconstruction  is  not  to  be  accomplished  by 
mere  schemes  sprung  fully  matured  from  the  minds  of  men  of 
genius.  Rather,  they  must  be  a  product  of  much  reflection 
and  long  experiment.  Social  stability  during  this  period  of 
experimentation  may  best  be  safeguarded,  as  Des  Cartes  sug- 
gested,2 by  clinging  to  the  old,  even  though  it  be  somewhat 
1  Compare  §  14.  2  Discours  de  la  Methode,  Part  II. 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  457 

discredited,  until  we  are  fairly  certain  of  the  effects  of  the  new. 
Herein  lies  the  value  of  a  conservatism  in  expressing  new 
ideas  that  seems  to  smack  of  hypocrisy. 

Again,  not  only  does  the  intellect  discover  the  shortcom-  (6)  prevent- 
ings  of  traditional  theory  and  practice  long  before  it  is  ready 
to  replace  these  by  anything  that  will  work,  but  the  tendency     of  action 
of  investigation  is  also  dangerous  from  the  mere  fact  that  it 
raises  doubt  and  paralyzes  will.     Human  conduct  is  both  in 
the  individuals  and  states  often  determined  by  beliefs  that 
cannot,  at  the  time  at  least,  be  established  by  scientific  meth- 
ods.    Hence  these  beliefs  can  be  challenged  by  contradictory 
opinions,  and  so  long  as  the  intellect  preserves  its  pause  of 
reflection  no  solution  is  possible.     The  demands  of  life  require 
that  this  Gordian  Knot  of  indecision  be  cut  by  will.     There 
are  ages  when  intellectual  analysis  and  dubiety  must  be  re- 
placed by  belief  that  will  not  doubt,  and  by  a  volition  that 
cares  more  for  the  accomplishment  of  results  than  for  the 
soundness  of  its  premises.     Such  an  attitude  requires  that  the 
unsettling  results  of  investigation  be  kept  in  the  background. 
In  the  long  run,  the  practice  that  is  thus  permitted  free  play 
may  result  in  that  very  experience  by  which  it  is  possible  to 
resolve  doubts  and  arrive  at  conclusive  judgments.     Thus  the  Consequent 
abandonment  of  the  attempt  to  establish  practice  on  con-     ofdwS've" 
vincing  reason  involves  a  resort  to  the  arbitrament  of  the     experience 
event,  through  which  alone  the  experience  necessary  to  satis- 
factory intellectual  decision  can  be  obtained. 

But  while  the  separation  of  what  is  esoteric  from  that  which  The  growth 
is  exoteric  in  teaching  may  be  an  inevitable  and  a  desirable     °tys0*  ' 
phase  in  the  evolution  of  academic  freedom,  it  tends  to  give     judgment 
way  before  the  forces  that  make  for  enlightenment.     Society      ^  the 
ultimately  arrives  at  a  degree  of  self-consciousness  concerning 
its   mechanism    and  of  self-control  in  regard  to  its  actions 
which  permits  the  truth  to  be  known  about  as  rapidly  as  it  is 


458 


Principles  of  Education 


Freedom  of 


to  judg- 


(3)  Freedom 

theCwork 
°fthe 


discovered.  The  age  of  revolution  is  replaced  by  one  of 
more  steady  progress.  Institutions  are  no  longer  subject  to 
sudden  reconstruction,  to  be  followed  by  long  periods  of 
comparative  stagnation,  but  they  become  flexible.  To  be 
sure,  it  is  not  likely  that  progress  will  ever  be  absolutely  con- 
tinuous in  rate.  Nevertheless,  spasmodic  growth  may  be 
expected  to  be  less  and  less  in  evidence.  Under  these  condi- 
tions the  investigations  and  teachings  of  the  school  may  be 
expected  to  produce  constant  changes,  but  they  will  be  less 
likely  to  result  in  violent  ones. 

The  full  freedom  on  the  part  of  the  school  to  find  out  the 
truth,  ^  ^  can>  an(^  to  teach  it  when  it  is  known,  reacts  favor- 
ably  upon  the  sobriety  of  judgment  of  this  institution.  The 
limitation  of  academic  freedom  historically  may  often  be 
justified  from  the  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  investigators 
of  the  school  to  arrive  at  conclusions  without  adequate  data. 
Against  the  inferences  of  a  rationality  too  often  divorced  from 
fact  society  had  frequently  need  to  defend  itself.  The  devel- 
opment of  greater  perfection  of  scientific  method  and  of  the 
critical  power  to  distinguish  between  the  proved  and  the  hy- 
pothetical are  partly  an  occasion  for  permitting  greater  aca- 
demic freedom,  and  partly  a  result  of  the  increased  sense  of 
responsibility  which  experience  in  such  freedom  has  produced. 

The  third  phase  of  academic  freedom  is  freedom  in  deter- 
mining  the  nature  and  scope  of  education.  It  means  that  the 
school  is  at  liberty  to  prescribe  to  its  pupils  what  they  shall 
study  and  the  method  of  their  work.  In  one  sense  such  power 
is  involved  in  the  extension  of  freedom  to  investigate  and  to 
teach.  Investigation  creates  and  reforms  the  curriculum,  and 
teaching  tends  to  follow  as  it  directs.  On  the  other  hand,  aca- 
demic freedom  in  these  respects  has  often,  as  we  have  seen, 
been  purchased  dt  the  cost  of  a  limitation  of  the  nature  and 
scope  of  the  work  of  the  school.  Freedom  to  investigate  and 


The  Evolution  of  the  School 


459 


in  educa- 
tion as  in- 
volving a 
dependent 
school 


to  teach  what  one  finds  to  be  true  was  permitted,  but  all  sub- 
jects which  the  dominant  classes  in  the  community  wished 
to  preserve  inviolate  were  excluded  from  the  school  curriculum. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  attainment  of  liberty  of  thought  and 
of  conscience,  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  which  the  eighteenth 
century  conceived  as  fundamental  among  the  rights  of  men, 
was  coupled  with  a  notion  of  laissez  faire  in  government,  which 
left  the  school  in  dependence  upon  private  agencies,  and  so 
a  mere  expression  of  family  ambitions  or  denominational  views. 
Thus  we  have  the  "freedom  of  teaching"  of  the  France  of  the 
Revolution  and  of  the  United  States  during  much  of  its  his- 
tory. The  state  simply  lets  education  alone.  Such  an  ar- 
rangement theorists  like  Herbert  Spencer  conceive  to  be  the 
one  most  conducive  to  the  welfare  of  the  individual  and  the 
progress  of  society.  Consequently,  they  oppose  any  attempt 
on  the  part  of  the  state  to  assume  control  of  the  school. 


"For  what  is  meant  by  saying  that  a  government  ought  Spenceron 
to  educate  the  people  ?  Why  should  they  be  educated  ?  What 
is  the  education  for  ?  Clearly  to  fit  them  for  social  life  ;  to 
make  good  citizens.  And  who  is  to  say  what  are  good  citizens  ? 
The  Government.  There  is  no  other  judge.  Hence  the  propo- 
sition is  convertible  into  this  —  a  Government  ought  to  mold 
children  into  good  citizens,  using  its  own  discretion  in  settling 
what  a  good  citizen  is  and  how  the  child  may  be  molded  into 
one.  It  must  first  form  for  itself  a  conception  of  a  pattern 
citizen  ;  and  having  done  this,  must  elaborate  a  system  of 
discipline  which  seems  best  calculated  to  produce  citizens  after 
that  pattern.  This  system  it  is  bound  to  enforce  to  the  utter- 
most. For  if  it  does  otherwise,  it  allows  men  to  become  differ- 
ent from  what  in  its  judgment  they  should  become,  and 
therefore  fails  in  that  duty  it  is  charged  to  fulfill.  Being  thus 
fortified  in  carrying  out  such  plans  as  it  thinks  best,  every 
Government  ought  to  do  what  the  despotic  Governments 
of  the  Continent  and  of  China  do.  The  regulation  under 
which,  in  France,  private  schools  cannot  be  established  with- 


the  evils  of 
state  con- 
trol of 
schools 


460  Principles  of  Ediication 

out  a  license  from  the  minister  and  can  be  shut  up  by  a  simple 
ministerial  order  is  a  step  in  the  right  direction,  but  does  not 
go  far  enough,  seeing  that  the  state  cannot  permit  its  mission 
to  be  undertaken  by  others,  without  endangering  the  due  per- 
formance of  it.  The  forbidding  of  all  private  schools  what- 
ever, as  until  recently  in  Prussia,  is  nearer  the  mark."  x 

Laissez  faire  Among  the  most  important  consequences  of  state  education, 
fended  tw  accorcmig  to  Mr.  Spencer,  is  that  "  the  teaching  organism  itself, 
the  basis  of  and  the  Government  which  directs  it,  will  inevitably  lean  to 
andfjusT6  things  as  they  are,  and  to  give  them  control  over  the  national 
education  mind  is  to  give  them  the  means  of  repressing  aspirations  after 
things  as  they  should  be." 

According  to  this  view,  —  the  laissez  faire  theory  of  educa- 
tion, —  the  school  will  be  freest  to  investigate,  to  teach,  and 
so  to  progress  in  case  it  is  left  to  private  agencies  which  are 
protected  in  their  freedom  of  teaching.  A  national  system 
is  supposed  to  mean  paternalism,  the  suppression  of  variation, 
and  so  of  progress,  in  a  word,  absolutism  with  all  its  attendant 
evils.  What  we  need  is  freedom  on  the  part  of  the  individual 
to  study  what  he  chooses.  Let  the  laws  of  demand  and  supply 
operate  as  freely  as  human  contrivances  can  permit.  The 
school,  made  dependent  on  the  demands  of  its  patrons,  will 
supply  whatever  their  ambitions  and  intelligence  require. 
Thus,  it  is  assumed,  each  will  get  the  kind  and  the  amount 
of  education  that  he  deserves.  We  will  have  justice  in  giving 
to  each  what  he  earns  and  values,  freedom  in  forcing  upon 
none  what  they  do  not  want,  and  progress  in  providing  the 
greatest  freedom  for  the  development  of  individual  differences 
and  for  their  struggle  for  existence. 

Likelihood  of       The  believer  in  laissez  faire  holds  that  freedom  of  teaching 

site  effects    involves  no  interference  on  the  part  of  the  state  in  the  work  of 

education.     But  such  an  arrangement  leaves  it  a  mere  servile 

1  Spencer,  Social  Statics:    Essay  on  National  Education. 


77/6'  Evolution  of  the  School 


461 


flunky  upon  the  tastes  and  prejudices  of  its  patrons.  It 
must  give  that  which  will  insure  it  pupils.  Under  such  con- 
ditions there  is  no  freedom  to  teach,  for  if  the  school  does  not 
teach  what  the  parents  want,  —  that  is,  if  it  does  not  give  up 
its  freedom,  —  it  cannot  teach  at  all,  since  it  will  have  no 
patronage.  Hence,  genuine  academic  freedom  requires  that 
the  state  should  protect  the  school  in  determining  the  con- 
tent and  method  of  education.  Without  this  privilege  and 
responsibility  academic  freedom  is  left  ineffectual. 

The  two  issues,  that  of  control  of  education  by  the  school 
and  that  of  control  and  support  of  the  school  by  the  state, 
have  gone  hand  in  hand.  If  it  be  admitted  that  there  should 
be  complete  academic  freedom,  one  must  at  the  same  time 
grant  that  the  school  can  be  placed  in  this  position  only  by  the 
generous  support  and  protection  of  a  democratic  state.  His- 
torically it  is  true  that  national  education  has  been  both  con- 
servative and  calculated  to  favor  the  welfare  of  the  nation  or 
that  of  a  dominant  class  rather  than  that  of  the  individual. 
However,  this  result  sprang  from  the  fact  that  the  state  has 
been  under  the  control  of  classes  or  of  conservatives.  When 
once  this  institution  has  become  imbued  with  the  spirit  of 
progress,  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  favor  intel- 
lectual investigation  and  reform  through  education.  More- 
over, the  democratic  state  is  pledged  to  secure,  so  far  as 
possible,  equality  of  opportunity.  Hence,  it  cannot  favor  edu- 
cation in  the  interests  of  classes.  The  event  has  proved  that 
national  education  tends  toward  both  the  most  exact  justice 
to  the  child  and  the  largest  efficiency  in  the  school. 

But  while  it  may  be  agreed  that  national  education  means 
the  greatest  measure  of  academic  freedom  for  the  school, 
many  may  question  the  wisdom  of  permitting  such  power  to 
come  into  the  hands  of  the  teaching  class.  It  remains  to 
show  that  the  greatest  efficiency  in  education  springs  from  giv- 


State  control 
the  pre- 
requisite of 
complete 
academic 
freedom 


Academic 
freedom  a 
condition 
of  expert 
control 


462  Principles  of  Education 

ing  to  the  school  the  power  to  determine  what  and  how  it 
shall  teach.  There  are  two  fundamental  reasons  for  this 
complete  academic  freedom.  These  are  the  growth  of  edu- 
cation into  a  profession  involving  special  knowledge  and  skill, 
and  the  fact  that  education  deals  with  individuals  who  are  in- 
capable, without  direction,  of  knowing  or  getting  what  they 
should  have.  The  growth  of  the  systematic  study  of  education 
and  of  the  professional  spirit  among  schoolmasters  has  led 
them  to  demand  and  to  receive  more  and  more  that  influence 
in  the  direction  of  their  special  work  which  is  due  to  the  ex- 
pert. This  movement  has  been  furthered  by  the  rise  of  uni- 
versal education  and  of  the  ideal  of  education  for  efficiency. 
Universal  education  has  intensified  the  difficulties  of  school 
method  and  created  a  vast  number  of  problems  of  supervision 
and  administration.  The  attempt  to  secure  efficiency  as  the 
result  of  teaching  has  involved  problems  of  adapting  the 
course  of  study  to  life  that  were  not  realized  when  the  "piety, 
knowledge,  and  art  of  expression"  that  the  school  has  been 
wont  to  cultivate  were  felt  to  be  worth  while  for  their  own 
sake.  Thus  both  the  rise  of  expert  knowledge  and  the  diffi- 
culty of  modern  utilitarian  education  have  conspired  to  raise 
education  into  a  profession  and  to  secure  for  it  practical  con- 
trol over  its  work. 

Expert  con-        The  development  of  education  into  a  special  science  in  the 

foundation   nan^s  of  experts  must  of  necessity  react  upon  its  progressive- 

pf  progress  ness.     In  the  first  place,  it  is  relieved  from  dependence  upon 

tion  the  prejudices  of  its  patrons,  which  are  of  necessity  largely 

uncritical.     These  lay  opinions  are  apt  to  be  conservative. 

Men  look  back  fondly  upon  the  education  that  they  received, 

or  thought  they  received,  and  sorrowfully  contrast  it  with 

the  "fads"  and  the  superficiality  of  to-day.     On  the  other 

hand,  when  the  lay  mind  does  feel  the  need  of  progress,  it  is  apt 

to  ride  its  hobbies  without  that  careful  criticism  which  can 


TJie  Evolution  of  the  School  463 

come  adequately  only  from  patient  study  and  investigation. 
The  special  science  of  education  aims  to  separate  what  is  known 
from  what  is  problematical,  to  accumulate  data,  to  conduct  edu- 
cational experimentation,  and  so  to  organize  the  profession 
that  what  is  once  established  need  not  be  forgotten  for  lack  of 
any  systematic  method  of  making  it  known.  Thus  academic 
freedom  means  professional  unity,  and  that  systematic  or- 
ganization of  educational  research  which  replaces  mere  chance 
progress  by  conscious  effort  under  the  control  of  scientific 
method. 

The  school  should  control  its  work,  not  only  that  it  may  Academic 
make  this  scientific  and  progressive,  but  also  because  in  a  pe- 
culiar sense  it  deals  with  those  who  are  in  need  of  direction,      to  a  just 
To  leave  education  in  the  hands  of  private  agencies  means  to      tionof  edu- 


make  the  education  of  children  dependent  upon  the  resources 
and  the  standards  of  parents.  Now,  while  parental  ambi- 
tion is  one  of  the  noblest  of  emotions  and  deserves  to  be  en- 
couraged, to  leave  the  child  dependent  upon  it  and  its  resources 
means  inequality  and  injustice  to  many.  A  democratic  so- 
ciety must  believe  that  the  child  of  poverty  and  degradation 
is,  as  a  child,  quite  as  deserving  of  educational  opportunity  as 
is  the  scion  of  wealth  and  nobility  of  life.  To  be  sure,  no 
scheme  except  one  which,  like  that  of  Plato,  abolishes  the 
family  can  destroy  its  influence  on  education.  Yet  the  more 
glaring  inequalities  that  spring  from  the  relegation  of  this 
function  entirely  to  the  family  can  be  remedied  by  establish- 
ing a  school  equipped  with  resources  and  power  such  as  make 
it  genuinely  free  in  its  supervision  of  the  nature  and  scope  of 
the  training  of  the  young.  The  inde- 

Thus  the  modern  state,  which  holds  itself  responsible  to  do 


its  best  for  the  welfare  of  its  citizens,  has  come  to  devote  itself  s^001  •»  a 

.  .  .  source  of 

especially  to  the  task  of  equalizing  educational  opportunities  individual 

through  a  national  school.    The  policy  of  laisscz  faire  has  freedom 


464 


Principles  of  Education 


Endowed 
private 
schools 
may  be 
academi- 
cally free 


been  replaced  by  that  of  providing,  in  conformity  with  the 
ideal  of  Horace  Mann,  a  public  school  so  good  that  no  parent 
would  prefer  a  private  one  on  account  of  the  greater  merit 
of  its  instruction,  and  of  so  far  interfering  with  the  liberty 
of  the  individual  as  to  compel  the  attendance  of  the  children, 
to  limit  their  right  to  labor,  and  to  provide  them,  where  neces- 
sary, with  the  food,  the  clothing,  and  the  other  resources 
that  are  required  to  make  the  work  of  the  school  effective. 
This  policy,  so  far  from  being  an  agency  of  tyranny,  is  the 
source  of  the  largest  freedom  to  the  individual.  A  system 
of  education  resting  on  charity  and  private  patronage  is  bound 
to  reflect  the  point  of  view  of  those  families  of  wealth  and 
station  who  constitute  its  main  support.  The  social  control 
of  such  an  institution  is  inevitably  thrown  upon  the  side  of 
the  interests  that  it  especially  represents. 

The  national  school  is  not  of  necessity  supported  wholly  by 
public  funds  nor  controlled  entirely  by  state  officers.  Large 
private  endowments,  when  they  are  not  accompanied  by  ex- 
press or  implied  conditions  that  limit  academic  freedom,  do 
not  hamper  but  rather  aid  the  national  school.  Moreover, 
the  control  of  such  endowments  by  self-perpetuating  boards 
of  trustees  is  not  inconsistent  with  a  responsiveness  to  public 
opinion.  In  these  educational  agencies,  therefore,  we  may  and 
do  have  merely  parts  of  a  national  system.  Indeed,  the  Presi- 
dent *  of  one  great  endowed  American  University  has  main- 
tained that  in  effect  such  an  institution  is  as  genuine  a  part 
of  the  state  system  as  is  the  so-called  State  University.  While 
the  truth  of  this  view  may  be  granted,  it  is  also  clear  that 
without  the  support  and  protection  of  the  democratic  state  the 
school  could  not  have  been  able  adequately  and  freely  to  care 
for  the  task  of  education  from  the  elementary  school  to  the  uni- 
versity. Academic  freedom  in  the  highest  sense  has  meant 

1  President  Butler. 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  465 

that  the  state  should  assume  the  responsibility  for  the  exist- 
ence of  a  school  that  could  control  education  effectively,  and 
without  any  other  motive  than  the  desire  to  foster  impartially 
the  welfare  of  children. 

The  control  by  the  school  over  the  nature  and  scope  of  Resumption 
its  work  has  enabled  it  gradually  to  reassume  the  teaching  of     ^yhj£fof 
many  subjects  that  had  been  shut  out  of  its  curriculum  as  a      the  teacn- 
condition  of  its  independence.     Thus  religion  and  politics  are      tefdicted 
gradually  making  their  way  into  the  researches  and  the  instruc-      subJ«*s 
tion  of  universities.      Doubtless,  such  subjects  will  eventually 
reach  the  elementary  school.     When  education  ceases  to  con- 
fuse opinion  with  scientific  certainty  and  comes  to  teach  facts 
apart  from  hypotheses,  its  assistance  on  matters  of  vital  prac- 
tical import  will  not  only  be  permitted  but  desired  and,  indeed, 
expected. 

Academic  freedom  in  its   completest  sense  may  be  said  to  implications 
imply  that  the  school  should  possess  the  following  powers:      academ 

(1)  control  of   the  curriculum  and  of  methods  of  teaching;      freedom: 

(2)  control  of  the  appointment  of  teachers ;    (3)  compulsory 
education  ;   (4)  control  of  school  finances  ;   (5)  adequate  school 
appropriations.     It  will  be  seen  that  these  powers  make  the 
school  dominant  in  all  educational  matters,  as,  indeed,  it  should 
be.     However,  there  are  perils  in  such  authority,  and  it  is  not 
difficult  to  see  what  they  are.     Before  discussing  them  and 
the  limitations  of  power  that  are  necessary  to  escape  them,  it 
may  be  well  to  consider  a  little  more  specifically  the  meaning 
and  justification  of  each  implication. 

The  control  over  the  curriculum  and  the  methods  of  teaching  (i)  control 
is  the  only  condition  under  which  the  work  of  education  can     ^cdum 
become  an  expert  profession,  alive  to  its  responsibilities  and     andmeth- 
full  of  the  spirit  of  progress.     As  well  ask  a  physician  to  con-     teaching; 
duct  and  be  responsible  for  a  case  in  which  his  advice  is  freely 
disregarded,  as  to  ask  the  school  to  teach  our  children  and 

2H 


466 


Principles  of  Education 


(2)   control 
over  who 
shall  be 
permitted 
to  teach ; 


(3)  compul- 
sory educa- 
tion; 


(4)   control 
of  the  dis- 
position of 
school 
money ; 


(5)  adequate 
financial 
support 


then  to  prescribe  the  details  of  what  it  should  do.  Indeed, 
there  is  more  need  of  independence  for  the  school  than  for 
the  physician,  since  education  concerns  the  interests  of  an 
immature  child  and  seeks  freedom  from  ignorant  parental 
meddling  with  its  endeavors  to  serve  these,  whereas  the  phy- 
sician is  dealing  usually  with  a  responsible  adult,  and  wishes 
only  to  enforce  a  regimen  the  value  of  which  can  ordinarily 
be  quickly  realized  by  the  patient  himself. 

The  determination  of  who  shall  be  teachers  must  in  large 
measure  rest  with  the  teaching  profession.  If  this  authority 
is  not  so  placed,  there  is  no  assurance  that  the  best  ideals  and 
practices  of  the  profession  will  be  illustrated  in  those  who  are 
called  upon  to  teach.  There  is,  indeed,  no  certainty  that  the 
judgment  of  teachers  about  teachers  is  always  better  than 
that  of  those  outside  the  profession.  But,  at  any  rate,  the 
selection  of  teachers,  by  superintendents  who  are  responsible 
for  the  results  that  they  attain  tends  to  free  this  matter  from 
all  sorts  of  influences  other  than  those  which  are  professional,  — 
influences  which  tend  to  degrade  the  intellectual  as  well  as 
the  moral  standard  of  the  profession. 

Again,  compulsory  education  has  come  to  be  recognized  as 
indispensable  in  order  that  irresponsible  or  destitute  parents, 
or  the  ignorance  of  childhood,  may  not,  so  far  as  this  can  be 
prevented,  interfere  with  the  beneficence  of  the  school  in  pro- 
viding the  essentials  of  a  standard  education. 

Finally,  in  reference  to  school  finances,  it  is  evident  that  in 
so  far  as  these  are  applied  to  matters  purely  educational  in 
character,  the  expert  in  education  should  be  regarded  as  the 
best  judge  of  their  disposal.  The  power  of  the  purse  is  in 
many  ways  the  determining  influence,  not  only  in  the  matter 
of  the  extent  of  education,  but  also  in  that  of  its  character. 
In  order  that  its  extent  may  not  be  improperly  limited,  there 
should  be  adequate  school  appropriations,  and  the  funds 


Tlie  Evolution  of  tJie  School  467 

thus  available  should  be  disposed  of  under  the  guidance  of 
competent  educational  advice. 

To  recapitulate,  academic  freedom  has  assumed  three  forms,  Summary 
each  of  which  involves  special  issues.  As  the  teaching  class 
becomes  more  and  more  a  group  of  experts  in  learning,  they 
naturally  drift  into  investigation.  Their  researches  touch 
upon  vital  questions  of  social  control  and  incite  the  hostility 
of  those  whose  status  in  society  is  threatened.  In  such  a 
pass,  freedom  of  investigation  may  be  retained  at  the  price  of 
restriction  to  such  questions  as  are  "safe"  or  "academic." 
But  investigation  tends  to  trench  on  the  forbidden.  In  that 
event,  it  often  saves  a  struggle  by  failing  to  publish  its  results. 
The  school  has  frequently  protected  itself  from  loss  of  prestige 
or  the  enmity  of  privileged  classes  by  keeping  as  esoteric  what 
it  has  discovered.  Thus  it  gains  a  wider  freedom  of  investiga- 
tion at  the  expense  of  a  limitation  of  freedom  of  teaching. 
The  rise  of  modern  democracy  meant  first  the  laissez  Jaire  the- 
ory of  government.  According  to  this  conception,  the  school 
gained  theoretical  freedom  of  teaching,  but  since  it  was  left 
dependent  on  private  patronage,  this  freedom  was  unable  to 
become  effectual  in  any  large  way.  The  further  evolution  of 
democracy  has  led  to  the  view  that  government  should  interest 
itself  positively  in  providing  for  the  welfare  of  its  citizens. 
This  notion  has  involved  especially  the  endeavor  to  provide 
equality  of  educational  opportunity  for  children.  In  carry- 
ing out  this  view  the  state  seems  in  the  act  of  creating  a  school 
with  complete  academic  freedom,  —  that  is,  recognized  au- 
thority over  the  curriculum  and  methods  of  teaching,  power 
to  determine  who  shall  teach,  power  to  compel  attendance  and 
to  dispose  of  school  finances,  and  adequate  support  for  its 
great  work. 


468 


Principles  of  Education 


Academic 
freedom  as 
a  source  of 
irresponsi- 
bility in 
education 


Consequent 
isolation, 
loss  of  vi- 
tality, and 
selfishness 
in  the 
school 


SECTION  51.    Interdependence  of  the  school  and  society 

It  is  evident  that  the  powers  which  academic  freedom  has 
been  shown  to  imply  need  limitation  in  order  not  to  involve  a 
preposterous  independence  on  the  part  of  the  school.  The 
school  should  be  independent  of  the  rest  of  society  just  in  so  far 
as  that  independence  is  necessary  in  order  to  insure  its  most 
effective  service  to  the  individual.  On  the  other  hand,  a  degree 
of  dependence  should  exist  in  order  that  the  school  may  be 
kept  to  this  service.  In  a  general  way,  society  has  always 
been  alert  to  this  situation.  Academic  freedom  has  many  ad- 
vances to  make  before  it  is  likely  to  place  the  school  in  an 
irresponsible  position,  and,  doubtless,  the  checks  that  are 
wont  to  surround  each  new  addition  to  its  power  and  liberty 
will  adequately  protect  the  public  against  educational  tyr- 
any. 

The  serious  dangers  that  the  rise  of  academic  freedom  in- 
volves fall  under  three  headings.  The  school  may  become 
isolated  from  practical  life  and  unresponsive  to  its  demands. 
It  may  become  too  mechanical  in  its  organization  and  work, 
thus  ceasing  to  display  vital  growth.  Finally,  it  may  come 
to  be  run  in  the  interest  of  the  teachers,  rather  than  in  that 
of  the  children. 

These  phases  of  degeneracy  because  of  power  are,  in  a 
sense,  distinct  from  each  other.  The  school  may  isolate  itself 
without  becoming  mechanical  or  even  selfish.  Mechanism 
may  impair  the  progressiveness  of  institutions  that  aim  for 
the  sake  of  service  to  keep  in  close  touch  with  the  utilities  of 
life.  Lastly,  self-interest  may  be  a  dominant  motive  in  schools 
that  study  well  the  times  in  order  to  conform  to  popular  no- 
tions or  powerful  interests,  rather  than  to  discover  the  best 
method  of  serving  the  welfare  of  the  young.  On  the  other 
hand,  these  three  evils  all  tend  to  involve  each  other,  and  a 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  469 

school  developing  independence  on  account  of  resources  and  a 
prestige  that  makes  it  a  great  power  in  social  control  may 
easily  lose  its  touch  with  the  interests  it  should  serve,  and 
become  incrusted  by  conservatism  and  selfishness. 

In  order  to  insure  the  prevention  of  this  result,  it  is  neces-  Proper  divi- 
sary,  of  course,  to  limit  the  independence  of  the  school.    The     authority 
school  and  the  community  must  be  made  interdependent,      between 
and  the  principle  of  this  relation  is  to  be  found  in  a  division  of     and1x>ards 


power.     Practice  in  this  matter  seems  to  be  drifting  toward  an 
arrangement  which  leaves  to  those  in  the  profession  of  teaching 
the  task  of  planning  all  specific  measures  that  relate  to  the 
organization,  the  program,  and  the  teaching  of  the  school,  and 
assigns  to  authorities  outside  the  profession  a  power  of  vetoing 
such   plans   or   of   choosing   among   submitted   alternatives, 
together  with  some  responsibility  for  criticism  or  suggestion 
in  regard  to  existing  or  proposed  conditions.     Such  an  ar- 
rangement should,  undoubtedly,  apply  literally  to  the  control 
of  the  curriculum  and  methods  of  teaching.     Here  it  is  quite  Application 
certain  that,  while  the  community  as  a  whole,  and  especially     principle 
such  trustees  as  are  appointed  to  exercise  oversight  over  the      W  !  3  the 
work  of  the  school,  should  be  empowered  to  veto  any  pro-      work  of 
posed  plan,  and  should  feel  it  their  duty  to  watch,  criticise,  and 
advise  the  school,  still  the  definite  initiation  and  the  detailed 
formulation  of  plans  should  be  intrusted  to  those  whose  busi- 
ness it  is  to  carry  these  out  if  they  be  adopted. 

When  we  come  to  the  appointment  of  teachers,  the  applica-  (2)  to  the 
tion  of  our  principle  may  be  seen  in  the  generally  prevailing     ^t  of" 
requirement  that  they  should  be  certificated  or  licensed  on     teachers 
the  basis  of  qualifications  that  are  tested  by  those  in  the  pro- 
fession.    Such  an  arrangement  still  leaves  great  liberty  of 
choice  to  the  controlling  boards  composed  of  laymen.    How- 
ever, the  tendency  is  rapidly  growing  to  intrust  to  super- 
intendents, principals,  or  presidents  the  power  of  nominating 


470 


Principles  of  Education 


Reversai  of 


executive 


Possible 

giving  the 
teachers  a 

share  in 

suchap- 
pomtments 


teachers  and  of  assigning  them  to  their  specific  work,  thus 
leaving  to  the  lay  board,  so  far  as  subordinate  appointments  are 
concerned,  the  sole  duty  of  approval  or  rejection  of  the  nomi- 
nations  made.  In  addition,  however,  they  usually  possess  the 
Power  °f  selecting  the  leading  administrative  officers.  This 
power  is  in  turn  limited  in  various  ways.  First,  it  is  prac- 
tically necessary  to  have  the  approval  of  excellent  professional 
judgment  in  selecting  these  officers.  To-day  a  system  of  edu- 
cational credentials  has  grown  up,  which  practically  constrains, 
not  only  lay  boards,  but  also  administrative  school  officials, 
to  conform  in  the  making  of  appointments  to  the  verdict  of  at 
least  a  respectable  body  of  opinion  among  the  teachers  them- 
selves. Second,  the  teachers  in  some  schools  exercise  certain 
direct  powers  in  reference  to  the  appointment  of  their  chief 
executives.  In  the  German  University,  for  example,  the 
rector,  or  in  case  the  head  of  the  principality  possesses  that 
official  title,  the  acting  rector  or  prorector,  is  really  selected 
by  the  members  of  the  faculty,  the  state  authorities  possessing 
the  right  only  of  refusing  to  confirm  this  appointment.  It 
must  be  noted  that  the  professors  are  not  selected  by  the  rec- 
tor, but  by  the  government,  usually,  however,  on  the  advice  of 
the  faculty  or  of  its  representatives. 

It  is  possible  that  a  governing  head  having  the  general  re- 
sponsibility  and  authority  of  the  American  president,  principal, 
or  superintendent  is,  on  the  whole,  most  favorable  to  a  compre- 

.  .  ,  . 

hensive,  impartial,  and  progressive  policy  in  the  school.  On 
jj^  o^ner  hand,  it  seems  equally  certain  that  such  an  officer 
should  be,  in  some  measure,  subject  to  the  judgment  of  the 
teachers  whom  he  commands.  Two  methods  of  bringing 
about  this  result  are  available.  Either  these  officers  may  be 
in  the  beginning  nominated  by  the  teachers,  or  they  may  be 
subject  to  the  approval  of  those  whom  they  are  to  direct.  In 
the  former  case,  the  teachers  may  nominate  one  or  a  number  of 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  471 

candidates,  and  the  governing  board  exercise  in  the  one  case 
a  confirming,  in  the  other,  a  selecting,  power.  The  first  ar- 
rangement would  preserve  the  principle  hitherto  laid  down  in 
regard  to  the  division  of  functions  between  professionals  and 
laymen.  It  would,  doubtless,  seem  to  most  like  putting  the 
school  too  much  in  the  hands  of  the  teachers.  Moreover,  it  is 
possible  that  the  plan  would  lead  to  improper  intrigues  among 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that 
where  lay  boards  have  entire  control  of  this  matter  intrigues 
and  unprofessional  influences  have  all  too  frequently  deter- 
mined the  choice  of  school  officers.  But  whatever  may  be 
said  of  the  ultimate  desirability  of  having  the  teachers  nominate 
their  executive  heads,  it  would  seem  that  the  time  is  ripe  for 
at  least  a  limited  application  of  the  other  plan  by  which  the 
appointment  of  administrative  officers  through  lay  boards 
would  require  the  confirmation  of  the  teachers  in  the  school 
they  are  to  conduct.  It  is  likely  also  that  a  considerable 
majority  of  these  teachers  should  be  able  to  remove  their 
executive  officers. 

It  may  seem  absurd  to  think  of  such  a  plan  as  applying  to  Difficulty  in 
our  elementary  schools.    And  it  must  be  confessed  that  the 


youth  and  immaturity  of  many  of  the  teachers  in  these  insti-  to  eiement- 
tutions,  coupled  with  the  fact  that  they  are  to  such  an  over- 
whelming extent  women,  a  large  number  of  whom  are  soon 
removed  from  the  profession  by  marriage,  makes  the  problem 
here  especially  difficult.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  with  the  cur- 
rent belief  in  the  need  of  discipline  among  the  rank  and  file, 
no  body  of  teachers  will  be  intrusted  with  the  power  of  con- 
firming the  appointment  of  educational  executives  unless  their 
training  and  quality  are  clearly  such  as  to  make  this  provi- 
sion an  advantage  to  the  school.  Such  would  seem  to  be  the 
case  with  colleges  and  universities  and  with  many  secondary 
schools. 


472 


Principles  of  Education 


De  facto  in- 
fluence of 
teachers  in 
the  ap- 
pointment 
of  execu- 
tives 


The  issue  in 
compul- 
sory edu- 
cation 


Objections  to 
compelling 
attendance 


Meanwhile,  it  is  clear  that,  although  the  teachers  are  not 
officially  intrusted  with  the  power  of  confirming  the  appoint- 
ments of  their  chiefs,  or  of  removing  them  when  objectionable, 
nevertheless,  they  do  in  practice  exercise  this  function  in 
exactly  that  degree  to  which  they  give  expression  to  opinions 
which  are  held  by  the  community  to  be  of  weight.  No  board 
of  trustees  would  venture  to  appoint  or  to  retain  an  executive 
officer  against  the  judgment  of  a  body  of  teachers  whose  ver- 
dict was  regarded  as  mature  and  impartial.  The  only  ad- 
vantage that  the  official  power  of  confirmation  or  removal 
would  have  would  arise  from  the  fact  that  it  would  tend  to 
disabuse  both  the  teachers  and  the  community  of  the  notion 
that  such  a  matter  is  not  the  concern  of  any  but  the  govern- 
ing boards.  This  attitude  reduces  the  school  to  a  business  in 
which  the  teachers  are  merely  employees.  There  can  be  no 
question  that  this  situation  is  bad  for  teachers,  for  community, 
and  for  school.  The  school  is  not  this  sort  of  a  business.  It 
is  a  cooperative  enterprise  the  sole  aim  of  which  is  the  welfare 
of  humanity  through  education.  In  such  an  enterprise  the 
principles  of  democracy,  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  control  of 
expert  opinion,  on  the  other,  are  paramount. 

When  we  come  to  compulsory  education,  the  issue  is  not  be- 
tween teachers  on  the  one  hand  and  boards  of  trustees  on  the 
other,  but  rather  between  the  school  and  the  individual,  whether 
parent  or  child.  The  necessity  of  compelling  the  child  to 
attend  school  for  a  certain  length  of  time  in  order  to  avoid  the 
evil  consequences  of  forces  over  which  he  has  no  control  has 
already  been  emphasized.  Parental  poverty  or  neglect  or 
the  ignorance  of  both  parent  and  child  produces  results  for 
which  the  child  should  not  have  to  suffer.  Hence  the  school 
should  endeavor  to  prevent  by  force  these  consequences. 

The  chief  objections  to  compulsory  education  are  that  it  is 
an  unwarrantable  interference  with  the  liberty  of  the  individual, 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  473 

and  that  only  that  education  which  is  freely  sought  is  of  any 
value.  The  first  objection  is,  of  course,  answered  by  the  con- 
sideration that  compulsory  education  interferes  only  with  the 
parent's  right  to  abuse  the  child,  or  with  the  child's  right  to 
abuse  himself  before  he  has  arrived  at  years  of  discretion. 
The  second  objection  is  more  important,  and  upon  it  can  be 
based  the  principle  that  should  govern  the  limits  of  compulsory 
education. 

The  school  has,  in  general,  tried  to  bring  about  universal  Attendance 
education  by  two  methods,  by  making  attendance  compulsory 
and  by  rendering  its  work  attractive.  The  latter  is  the  one  and  by 
more  generally  resorted  to  in  the  United  States,  where  com- 
pulsory attendance  laws  are  usually  poorly  enforced.  Euro- 
pean states  have  not  hesitated  to  resort  to  effective  compul- 
sion, and  it  may  be  said  that  in  the  present  condition  of  society 
this  course  is  desirable.  The  school  cannot  be  made  attrac- 
tive enough  to  entice  some  children  without  at  the  same  time 
losing  much  of  its  educational  virility.  Moreover,  the  en-  Necessity  of 
deavor  to  do  all  by  attractiveness  may  lead  to  "  soft  pedagogy," 
to  education  that  makes  the  child  passive  and  dependent 
rather  than  active  and  efficient.  On  the  other  hand,  no  school 
work  can  be  regarded  as  very  seriously  worth  while  unless  it 
comes  to  be  valued  by  the  recipient.  The  justification  of  com- 
pulsion lies  in  the  fact  that  it  may  and  frequently  does  lead  to 
appreciation.  Families  that  resist  education  may,  under  the 
pressure  of  a  sense  of  its  inevitability,  reconcile  themselves  to 
it,  and  come  to  feel  its  worth.  The  state  can  impress  upon  its 
people  the  desirability  of  education  most  quickly  and  effectively 
by  compelling  them  to  try  it.  There  can  be  no  question  that 
compulsory  education  tends  to  destroy  its  own  necessity, 
and  that  its  practice  on  any  large  scale  is  merely  a  policy  for 
a  transition. 

Thus  we  are  led  to  the  principle  that  should  determine  the 


474 


Principles  of  Education 


The  limits 
of  effective 
education 
by  com- 
pulsion 


Extension   of 
the  age 
limit  of 
compul- 
sory edu- 
cation 


Desirability 
of  making 
it  variable 


limits  of  compulsory  education.  Such  coercion  should  cease 
when  appreciation  of  education  may  be  expected  to  begin,  if 
it  is  to  begin  at  all.  What  the  child  is  forced  to  get  is  of  little 
value  unless  it  leads  to  a  desire  to  get  more  ;  and  it  is  in  this 
culture  that  is  freely  sought  that  all  large  educational  benefit 
is  to  be  found.  Hence,  the  school,  in  relying  upon  the  assist- 
ance of  compulsion,  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  this 
is  a  merely  temporary  measure,  and  that  attraction  is,  after 
all,  the  only  ultimately  effective  educational  motive.  When 
the  child  has  reached  an  age  at  which  it  can  fairly  accurately 
be  said  that  both  he  and  the  school  know  whether  they  should 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  each  other,  compulsory  educa- 
tion should  cease. 

The  determination  of  this  age  is,  of  course,  a  matter  of  practi- 
cal experience,  but  it  may  be  noted  that  as  the  curriculum 
expands  to  include  vocational  training,  and  especially  as 
secondary  education  comes  to  be  devoted  more  systematically 
and  resourcefully  to  the  task  of  helping  the  student  to  find 
himself,1  the  period  of  compulsory  education  may  well  be 
extended.  Such  is,  indeed,  the  tendency ;  for  example,  the 
compulsory  attendance  on  continuation  schools  in  Germany, 
and  the  extending  of  the  age  of  compulsion  beyond  fourteen 
in  some  American  states.  A  pupil  may,  before  he  has  by  any 
means  exploited  the  resources  of  the  school,  ignorantly  decide 
that  this  institution  has  nothing  for  him.  As  the  educational 
resources  expand  to  meet  all  or  nearly  all  types  of  ability,  the 
school  has  a  right  to  insist  that  at  least  an  attempt  shall  be  made 
by  the  pupil  to  discover  and  to  utilize  what  is  prepared  for 
him.  Coercion  may  frequently  be  valuable  as  an  aid  to  ade- 
quate experimentation  in  various  lines  of  work. 

Finally,  it  is  probable  that  the  length  of  time  during  which 
attendance  should  be  compulsory  is  not  the  same  for  all  chil- 

1  On  the  function  of  secondary  education,  compare  §  53. 


TJie  Evolution  of  the  School 


475 


dren.  To  keep  a  boy  in  school  after  it  is  certain  that  he  can 
receive  no  benefit  from  it  is  an  absurd  tyranny.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  evident  that  many  children  want  to  leave  school 
long  before  they  have  received  from  it  the  proper  cultivation 
of  their  talents.  It  should  be  within  the  power  of  the  educa- 
tional authorities  to  release  some  from  the  obligation  of  attend- 
ance with  which  others  are  forced  to  comply.  The  age  limit 
of  coercion  should,  therefore,  like  the  modern  criminal  sentence, 
become  somewhat  indeterminate ;  or,  to  push  the  parallel 
further,  be  stated  as  a  maximum  capable  of  being  reduced  at 
the  discretion  of  the  school  authorities. 

In  regard  to  the  distribution  of  school  finances,  we  find  that 
our  general  principle  applies  fairly  completely.  The  fixing 
of  the  scale  of  salaries  and  of  the  relative  amounts  that  should 
be  devoted  to  this  or  that  educational  purpose  are  being  left 
more  and  more  to  the  executive  officers  of  the  school,  the  boards 
of  trustees  exercising  merely  the  functions  of  approval  or 
rejection.  So,  too,  the  school  officers  are  expected  to  indicate 
what  they  regard  as  adequate  school  appropriations,  trusting 
to  the  wise  economy  of  the  taxing  authorities  to  see  that  their 
estimates  are  properly  cut  down. 

It  is  evident  that  academic  freedom,  when  it  is  interpreted 
as  the  freedom  of  interdependence,  is,  so  far  from  being  a  source 
of  danger,  the  true  panacea  for  the  perils  that  are  supposed 
to  be  its  result.  The  supremacy  of  expert  opinion,  safe- 
guarded by  the  need  of  obtaining  for  it  the  approval  of  the 
representatives  of  society,  means,  not  the  isolation  of  the 
school,  but  mutual  respect  and  support  between  it  and  the 
community.  The  attention  of  the  teachers  is  being  continually 
centered  upon  the  needs  of  the  community,  which  they  must 
strive  to  meet  in  order  to  win  the  support  of  their  governing 
boards.  On  the  other  hand,  the  boards,  limited  in  their  powers 
to  a  consideration  of  the  plans  of  educational  experts,  will 


Application 
of  the  prin- 
ciple of 
division  of 
power  to 
control  of 
school 
finances 


The  freedom 
of  inter- 
depend- 
ence as 
the  basis  of 
effective 
education 


476 


Principles  of  Education 


Function  of 
the  school 
in  religion 
and  morals 
primarily 
that  of 
clarifying 
intelligence 


become  more  keenly  aware  that  education  is  a  science  deserv- 
ing of  professional  study,  and  yielding  far  greater  results  if 
submitted  to  trained  intelligence  than  if  held  to  the  traditions 
and  the  common  sense  of  those  who  devote  to  it  only  incidental 
attention.  Under  such  conditions  the  school  will  be  not  only 
differentiated  and  free,  but  it  will  be  suffered  to  absorb  more 
and  more  under  its  control  those  educational  functions  that 
have  been  withheld  from  it  by  church  or  family  or  state.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  much  more  religious  culture  may  profit- 
ably be  given  in  the  school  than  is  the  case  at  present.  The 
time  will  undoubtedly  come  when  all  denominations  will  wel- 
come the  assistance  of  the  secular  school  in  fostering  both  reli- 
gious intelligence  and  religious  attitudes.  So,  too,  the  family, 
the  principal  source  of  moral  culture,  will  be  grateful  for  a  more 
serious  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  school  to  arouse  in  the 
child  a  sense  of  the  various  duties  of  life  ;  and  the  state  will 
find  the  civic  intelligence  and  responsibility  of  its  citizens 
developed  and  strengthened  by  a  more  careful  study  in  the 
school  of  the  mechanism  and  issues  of  politics  and  govern- 
ment. 

In  this  larger  sphere  the  school  must,  of  course,  act  in  the 
spirit  of  science  and  reason,  uttering  dogmatically  only  what 
has  been  conclusively  proved,  and  setting  forth  alternative 
views  with  the  greatest  freedom.  Nor  can  it  hope  to  take 
the  place  either  of  church  or  family  in  connection  either  with 
the  religious  or  with  the  moral  life.  Its  essential  function  is 
the  clarification  of  intelligence,  whereas  the  church  and  the 
family  are  centers  for  carrying  out  in  a  practical  way  religious 
and  moral  attitudes.  But  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this 
fact  excludes  the  school  from  taking  account  of  the  significance 
of  religious  faith  or  of  self-sacrifice.  If  these  are  permanent 
elements  in  human  culture,  they  must  be  capable  of  support 
from  a  frank  and  incisive  examination  of  facts  and  reasons. 


The  Evolution  of  the  School  477 

Indeed,  so  far  is  it  from  being  true  that  rationalism  is  the 
parent  of  irreligion  and  individual  selfishness,  that  only  through 
rationalism  can  they  hope  to  save  themselves.  It  is  true  that 
reason  has  been  a  dangerous  enemy  of  faith  that  strives  to 
maintain  itself  at  the  expense  of  reason,  just  as  it  has  of  social 
rights  and  duties  that  serve  only  to  sustain  the  privileges  of  a 
class.  But  if,  in  its  iconoclasm,  reason  has  seemed  to  go  to 
the  extreme  of  atheism  and  anarchy,  it  is  no  less  true  that  the 
remedy  for  the  dangers  of  rationalism  is  more  rationalism. 
In  any  event,  the  consequences  of  rationalism  are  a  burden 
that  mankind  will  have  to  bear,  and  any  institution  that  re- 
serves its  fundamental  principles  from  the  criticism  of  the 
school  because  of  its  fear  of  the  logical  attitudes  assumed 
by  that  institution  will,  by  such  a  policy,  ultimately  destroy 
its  prestige  and  influence. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   FUNCTION   OF   THE    SCHOOL 

SECTION  52.     The  examination  conception  oj  education 

The  function  THE  school  may  be  defined  as  the  institution  through  which 

school  as  a  community  consciously  endeavors  to  transmit  to  the  young 

selection  their  social  heredity.     It  began  with  the  humble  function  of 

dividuais  handing  on  literacy  and  uncritical  tradition,  but  it  constantly 

according  grew  in  influence,  extent  of  culture,  and  independence  until  it 

to  social  .11  til. 

fitness,  (2)  has  come,  as  we  have  seen,  practically  to  control  the  educative 
of  the  mat-  f unction.     In  the  course  of  that  evolution  it  has  performed 

terof  social 

heredity  two  kinds  of  service.  The  first  is  that  of  selecting  or  testing 
individuals  according  to  the  standards  of  society ;  the  second 
is  that  of  selecting  from  among  the  available  materials  for  edu- 
cation that  which  is  regarded  as  most  adapted  to  the  training 
of  all  or  of  each.  The  function  of  selecting  individuals  for 
society  gives  rise  to  the  examination  conception  of  education. 
The  individual  is  tested,  it  may  be  once,  or,  as  is  more  common, 
at  various  stages,  or,  perhaps,  continuously  during  childhood 
in  order  to  ascertain  his  fitness  for  society  in  general,  or  for 
official  position,  or  to  determine  his  relative  rank  or  reputation, 
or  his  special  aptitude  for  this  or  that  pursuit.  Society  finds 
in  conscious  education  an  agency  for  social  control,  and  the 
first  task  of  control  is  that  of  selecting,  grading,  and  assigning 
to  each  the  status  that  most  conserves  the  interests  of  society 
as  a  whole,  or  of  the  governing  classes.  The  second  function, 
that  of  determining  the  nature  of  the  training  of  each,  is, 
indeed,  not  separated  from  the  function  of  examination,  but  is, 

478 


The  Function  of  the  School 


479 


like  the 
environ- 
ment in  be- 
ing not 
creative 
but  selec- 
tive of 
power 


nevertheless,  distinct  from  it,  and  should  be  dealt  with  apart. 
It  is  of  small  importance  so  long  as  the  materials  of  culture  are 
meager,  but  becomes  of  vital  significance  when  these  materials 
accumulate  so  that  a  struggle  for  existence  arises  among  them. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  view  that  the  function  of  the  The  school 
school  is  selective  places  the  emphasis  on  aspects  that  are 
merely  negative  or  incidental,  and  neglects  the  fundamental 
function,  which  some  may  hold  to  be  a  positive  one,  and  to 
consist  either  in  actually  transmitting  to  the  young  the  social 
heredity  that  they  need,  or  in  cultivating  to  a  state  of  efficiency 
their  powers.  In  reply,  it  may  be  said  that  these  supposedly 
positive  effects  of  education  are  in  reality  negative  or  selective 
in  character.  Throughout  the  preceding  discussions  it  has 
been  constantly  maintained  that  all  positive  growth  comes 
from  within.  The  powers  of  the  individual  emerge  from  po- 
tentialities the  mystery  of  which  cannot  in  the  least  be  traced 
to  the  environmental  conditions  that  determine  their  survival. 
The  education  of  the  individual,  so  far  as  this  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a  process  of  external  determination  of  his  development,  is 
merely  selective.  This  power  is  suffered  to  expand,  that  one 
is  eliminated.  The  school  merely  constitutes  an  environment 
favoring  the  growth  of  certain  tendencies  and  the  suppression 
of  others.  This  selective  function  is,  indeed,  of  great  impor- 
tance. We  have  seen  that  it  everywhere  constitutes  the  func- 
tion of  the  environment.  When  assumed  by  the  individual, 
it  takes  the  form  of  feeling  and  judgment.  It  characterizes 
the  mode  of  operation  of  such  educative  processes  as  imitation 
and  the  use  of  language.  Through  these  forms  it  so  enormously 
facilitates  the  progress  of  the  individual  toward  efficiency  that 
it  is  not  surprising  that  they  should  seem  like  positive  sources 
of  growth,  rather  than  merely  as  permissive  or  directive 
agencies.  Nevertheless,  they  are  such,  and  the  school,  as  the 
institution  that  constitutes  the  typical  expression  of  the  edu- 


480  Principles  of  Education 

cative  function,  is  fundamentally  an  instrumentality  by  which 
the  function  of  selection  in  individual  development  may,  so 
far  as  it  is  exercised  by  society,  be  specialized  and  controlled. 
The  function  of  selecting  or  grading  the  young  is  a  very  old 
one  in  the  history  of  social  control.  So  long  as  society  was  weak 
and  the  conditions  of  individual  life  insecure,  parental  and 
social  fosterage  were  capable  of  saving  only  those  children  who 
possessed  superiority  of  physical  and  mental  endowment. 
Increase  in  social  efficiency,  as  has  been  seen,  tends  to  eliminate 
the  influence  of  natural  selection.  The  weak,  the  inefficient 
are  preserved,  owing  to  the  strength  of  the  social  bond.  On 
the  other  hand,  such  consequences  tend  to  diminish  the  total 
efficiency  of  society,  with  the  result  that  the  community  that 
is  too  kind  to  its  own  finds  itself  at  a  disadvantage  in  the 
Rise  of  social  struggle  for  existence  with  sterner  communities.  In  order 
children1  °  that  a  community  m^y  preserve  its  efficiency,  while  at  the  same 
infanticide  time  its  moral  code  continues  to  antagonize  that  great  though 
terrible  ally  of  organic  health,  natural  selection,  new  counter- 
agencies  must  be  invented.  A  prominent  one  is  infanticide, 
quite  commonly  practiced  among  primitive  men  or  in  early 
civilizations.  Through  this  means  society  is  rid  of  superfluous 
young.  The  burden  of  the  support  of  any  save  those  that  are 
necessary  to  ensure  the  continuance  of  the  tribe  is  removed. 
Perhaps  the  females  may  be  the  ones  selected  for  destruction, 
the  group  relying  on  stealing  its  wives  from  some  other  race, 
—  a  method  made  practicable  because  of  its  greater'  efficiency 
in  war.  Such  conditions  are  held  to  give  rise  to  exogamy.1 
In  some  cases  the  community  may  keep  alive  just  enough  wo- 
men to  ensure  the  continuance  of  the  stock.  This  practice 
is,  doubtless,  widespread,  and  probably  finds  at  least  partial 
exemplification  in  China.  Where  male  as  well  as  female 
infanticide  prevails,  there  may  be  a  careful  selection  for  sur- 

1  Compare  M'Lennan,  Primitive  Marriage. 


The  Function  of  the  School  481 

vival  of  those  physically  well  endowed,  the  rest  being  aban- 
doned, as  at  Sparta. 

Infanticide  sanctioned  by  the  moral  standards  of  the  people  Social  selec- 
is  perfectly  consistent  with  a  high  degree  of  fosterage  and  e^dL^o 
culture  of  those  children  who  are  allowed  to  live.  Such  con-  adoies- 
scious  selection  for  survival  is,  doubtless,  a  more  constant 
factor  for  improving  the  stock  than  is  natural  selection,  at  any 
rate  so  far  as  external  and  easily  observed  characteristics  are 
concerned.  It  constitutes  the  most  primitive  exercise  of  the 
selective  function  that  society  displays.  A  second  example 
of  such  activity  is  to  be  found  in  the  special  exercises  of  adoles- 
cence. Here  society  determines  the  fitness  of  the  young  man 
or  woman  for  admission  to  adult  membership.  Such  selection 
becomes  especially  significant  when  society  develops  offices 
and  rank.  Here  the  prize  of  the  manhood  examination  may 
be  a  sort  of  a  patent  of  nobility.  In  the  case  of  the  Athenians 
this  examination  involved  an  investigation  into  parentage, 
since  rank  depended  largely  on  birth  as  well  as  on  individual 
qualifications.  With  more  primitive  peoples  leadership  may 
depend  on  the  ordeal,  as  with  the  Indians  of  Columbia  and  the 
Caribs.1  The  public  educational  system  of  China  is  a  highly 
developed  memory  ordeal,  to  pass  which  men  may  spend  a 
lifetime  in  study.  For  those  who  are  successful  in  these  exami- 
nations there  are  the  rewards  of  aristocratic  honors  and  privi- 
leges and  official  position  with  its  natural  consequence,  wealth. 

The  sort  of  selection  that  we  have  so  far  discussed  may,  Eiimmative 
perhaps,  be  properly  called  eliminative  selection.  The  indi-  J^ntiau 
vidual  who  fails  is  by  it  shut  out  from  certain  prizes,  —  life,  i°«  ***<*- 

......  ,..i  /v  -r       •  tion  i°  *& 

citizenship,  honors  and  privileges,  office.     It  aims  to  separate     Ucationai 
the  approved  from  those  less  fortunate,  and  in  some  cases  to 
grade  those  who  succeed.     The  Republic  of  Plato  sets  forth  a 
scheme  which  involves  an  endeavor  to  segregate  men  on  the 

1  Compare  Letourneau,  L'Evoltttion  d*  Education. 
21 


482  Principles  of  Education 

basis  of  the  sort  of  talent  that  they  display.  Differentiation 
thus  becomes  something  more  than  mere  grading.  It  is  true, 
Plato  places  the  learned  class  at  the  top,  followed  by  the  mili- 
tary class,  and  they  in  turn  by  the  commercial  and  industrial 
class.  Moreover,  he  would  determine  those  who  are  to  be 
in  the  lower  orders  by  their  lack  of  the  intelligence  or  of  the 
spirit  that  enables  one  to  be  a  sage  or  a  warrior.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  gives  us  the  hint  that  these  lower  classes  have  special 
abilities.  They  are  not  merely  to  be  characterized  as  lacking 
in  something.  They  have  positive  virtues  in  which  they  excel. 
The  determination  of  these  may  well  be  a  purpose  of  education, 
and  such  selection  we  may  call  differentiating  rather  than  elim- 
inative.  It  aims  not  so  much  to  grade,  as  to  find  out  that  for 
which  each  is  especially  fitted.  It  takes  account  of  the  fact 
that  men  differ  not  merely  in  degree,  but  also  in  kind  of  talent. 
An  adequate  method  for  differentiating  selection  is  undoubtedly 
one  of  the  great  desiderata  in  modern  education. 

Eliminative         Eliminative  selection  has  not  disappeared  from  the  modern 
selection  m  schoo}  i     The  old-fashioned  classical  course  was  an  admirable 

the  modern 

school,  in-  agency  for  separating  the  intellectually  weak  from  the  intel- 
oHtsTests  Actually  strong.  Those  who  accuse  it  of  having  accomplished 
of  ability  no  other  service  cannot  deny  that  it  offered  to  those  who 
might  wish  to  know  a  fair  rating  of  the  mental  power  and  per- 
severance of  the  pupil.  Some  such  rating  is,  of  course,  neces- 
sary, if  the  community  is  to  employ  intelligently  the  services 
of  the  individual.  On  the  other  hand,  the  judgment  of  the 
school,  as  based  on  the  power  to  master  Latin,  Greek,  and 
mathematics,  is  frequently  at  fault,  and  the  community  has 
come  to  discount  it.  The  conviction  exists  that  success  may 
be  gained  by  many  kinds  of  ability  which  these  subjects  do 
not  test.  Moreover,  just  as  the  one  who  fails  in  school  may 

1  Compare  Thorndike,  Educational  Psychology,  Ch.  IX,  "  The  Influence  of 
Selection." 


The  Function  of  the  School  483 

succeed  in  life,  so  the  one  who  succeeds  in  school  may  fail  in 
life.     Some  qualities  quite  essential  to  independent  enterprise 
this  old-fashioned  curriculum  took  no  pains  to  call  into  ques- 
tion. 
Thus  while  the  rating  of  the  school  has  value,  it  is  by  no  School  tests 


means  a  certain  index  to  the  uses  of  those  who  have  been  sub-     ,^oulf  be 

like  those 

jected  to  it.  The  main  difficulty  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  work  of  life 
used  to  test  ability  is  not  the  same  in  character  as  that  in  which 
this  ability  will  later  on  prove  useful.  It  is  evident  that  the 
course  of  study  best  adapted  to  offer  a  reliable  ranking  of  its 
students  is  one  that  best  prepares  them  for  the  careers  in  which 
their  powers  are  to  be  employed.  The  school  that  can  examine 
most  accurately  is  the  one  that  educates  most  efficiently. 
The  function  of  eliminating  or  grading  selection  should  there- 
fore be  subordinated  to  that  of  education,  not  merely  because 
culture  is  more  important  than  valuation,  but  also  because 
effective  valuation  can  best  be  obtained  as  a  by-product  of 
effective  culture. 

A  school  that  prepares  well  for  life  is  not  only  most  reliable  Differen- 
in  grading  its  pupils,  but  also  most  capable  of  differentiating 
them.     This  function  of  determining  the  special  aptitudes  and     more  im- 
tastes  of  the  child  as  a  basis  for  th>  selection  of  his  calling  is      [han^iim- 
undoubtedly  far  more  important  for  the  community,  as  well     ™at 
as  for  the  child,  than  is  that  of  giving  him  a  rating  in  general 
ability.     To  help  the  individual  "to  find  himself,"  although 
it  has  been  vaguely  in  the  minds  of  teachers  for  ages,  is  now  first 
coming  to  be  recognized  as  worthy  to  be  made  a  conscious 
aim  of  the  school,  —  if,  indeed,  it  should  not  be  fundamental 
in  certain  phases  of  school  work.     There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  the  teachers  have  emphasized  altogether  too  much  the 
business  of  grading  and  determining  relative  rank,  and  alto- 
gether too  little  that  of  differentiating  the  children  on  the  basis 
of  their  specific  aptitudes. 


484  Principles  of  Education 

The  reason  The  causes  of  this  are  not  difficult  to  discern.  Our  course 
ne  lee*  in  °^  stu(ty  nas  until  the  latter  part  of  the  nineteenth  century 
the  United  been  barren  on  the  vocational  side.  This  feature  is  still  largely 
undeveloped.  Moreover,  the  liberal  course  of  study  in  the 
United  States  is  a  heterogeneous  compound,  put  together  on 
the  idea  that  public  education  in  a  democracy  should  provide 
for  all  equally  and  give  to  each  the  best.  This  has  been  inter- 
preted to  mean  that  we  should  give  all  the  same  education, 
and  that  this  should  be  one  which  aims  at  careers  of  political 
or  social  leadership,  —  at  the  learned  professions  and  aristo- 
cratic life.  We  have  avoided  the  European  system,  where  the 
elementary  school  is  for  the  common  people,  and  completes 
their  education,  but  does  not  lead  into  the  secondary  school, 
which  is  for  the  aristocracy  and  the  professional  classes. 
Instead,  we  have  been  building  up  our  boasted  "continuous 
ladder,"  where  elementary  school  leads  into  high  school,  and 
this  in  turn  into  college.  Our  system  does  not,  like  the  Euro- 
pean one,  differentiate  children  on  the  basis  of  parentage,  but 
rather  on  that  of  ability.  On  the  other  hand,  since  it  leads 
designedly  toward  the  learned  professions,  it  merely  eliminates 
those  not  fitted  for  such  a  career.  We  give  a  far  better  chance 
than  does  Europe  for  the  lad  of  humble  birth  to  become  a  pro- 
fessional man,  but  we  do  not  so  carefully  see  to  it  that  the  lad 
of  humble  talent  shall  be  able  to  find  his  calling  and  prepare  for 
it.  If  the  pupil  cannot  profit  from  the  excellent  training  that 
we  provide,  we  simply  drop  him  out  and  let  him  go  his  way. 
In  recent  years  the  problems  of  elimination  of  pupils  from 
the  upper  grades  of  the  grammar  school  and  the  high  school, 
and  of  providing  more  adequate  vocational  training,  have  come 
to  the  front.  This  widespread  interest  practically  insures  an 
adequate  provision  for  vocational  instruction  at  no  very  distant 
day.  In  the  meantime,  it  will  be  necessary  to  reconstruct  our 
continuous  ladder  so  that  it  will  lead  naturally  and  easily  into 


The  Function  of  the  School 


485 


school 
guidance 
in  the  se- 
lection of 
a  specialty 


whatever  vocational  instruction  a  child  is  best  fitted  to  under- 
take. The  mere  existence  of  educational  facilities  for  all 
vocations  does  not  mean  that  children  will  properly  select  the 
work  they  choose  to  do.  If  the  school  does  not  undertake  Need  of 
the  task  of  providing  intelligent  guidance  in  the  matter,  it 
will  be  left  largely  to  chance.  The  student  of  fair  ability  is 
apt  to  become  interested  in  the  work  that  is  first  called  to  his 
attention,  and,  if  no  broader  experience  be  given,  he  may 
continue  to  specialize  therein,  when  there  are  many  other 
occupations  in  which  he  might  have  shown  superior  skill, 
had  the  proper  measures  been  taken  to  evoke  his  interest  in 
them.  A  system  that  trusts  to  the  preferences  of  the  students 
in  the  selection  of  specialized  training  is  liable  to  the  common 
criticism  on  the  elective  system,  —  that  it  puts  in  place  of  the 
experience  of  age  the  whims  of  callow  youth.  That  these  are 
unreliable  in  choosing  a  career  is  certain.  They  are  not  entirely 
trustworthy  in  selecting  a  wife.  It  is  not  merely  that  the  pleas- 
ure-loving child  avoids  many  severer  lines  of  training  that  are 
necessary  or  valuable  as  a  preparation  for  any  manner  of  life, 
but  rather  that  what  he  prefers  is  a  result  of  a  mere  caprice, 
and  is  not  determined  by  a  thorough  exploitation  of  his  abil- 
ities and  interests. 

We  may  say,  then,  that  the  function  of  the  school  is  primarily  summary 
selective.  It  selects  or  examines  the  child  with  reference  to 
social  service,  and  selects  the  features  of  social  heredity  that 
can  most  wisely  be  retained.  The  function  of  examination 
takes  two  forms.  It  may  be  either  eliminative,  or  grading, 
selection  or  differentiating  selection.  Eliminative  selection 
excludes  some  and  admits  others  to  social  protection,  citizen- 
ship, privileges,  honors,  offices,  etc.  This  service  is  apparently 
a  necessary  one.  However,  it  can  be  best  performed  by  a 
school  which  effectively  prepares  for  all  the  forms  of  adult 
activity  through  which  success  can  be  gained.  Such  a  school 


486  Principles  of  Education 

is  in  a  position  to  undertake  the  far  more  important  task  of 
differentiating  selection,  —  i.e.,  of  helping  the  individual  to 
enter  into  that  vocation  which  is  best  suited  to  his  abilities. 
Our  own  educational  system  needs  to  become  less  one  of  elimina- 
tive  and  more  one  of  differentiating  selection.  This  requires 
not  only  that  it  should  offer  in  rich  profusion  courses  prepara- 
tory to  all  phases  of  life,  but  also  that  a  special  phase  of  school 
life  should  be  devoted  to  the  task  of  helping  the  pupil  "to  find 
himself." 

SECTION  53.     The  function  of  secondary  education 

Primary  It  is  evident  that  the  European  method  of  trusting  to  hered- 

0    &y  to  determine  the  vocation  is  more  likely  to  result  in  a  proper 


education     selection  than  the  mere  chance  decision  of  the  inexperienced 

that  of  dif-      i  M  i        -rr  i  •          i  •         • 

ferentiat-  child.  If  our  democratic  education  is  really  to  do  justice  to 
ing  selec-  ^g  individual  and  to  make  for  the  highest  efficiency  of  society, 
it  must  attend  carefully  to  the  task  of  "  putting  the  round  pegs 
in  the  round  holes  and  the  square  pegs  in  the  square  holes." 
It  will  be  the  contention  of  this  discussion  that  the  problem 
of  determining  the  career  of  the  child  is  the  primary  function 
of  what  is  known  as  secondary  education.  The  considerations 
that  lead  to  this  conclusion  are  partly  psychological  and  partly 
historical. 

Psychological  From  the  point  of  view  of  psychology,  it  may  be  said  that  the 
secondary  school  is  the  school  of  the  adolescent,  and  that 
adolescence  is  the  time  for  choosing  one's  life  work.  We  have 
already  indicated  x  that  this  period  may  be  called  an  age  of 
independence,  as  contrasted  with  the  epoch  of  elementary 
education,  which  may  be  called  an  age  of  rivalry.  During 
this  earlier  period  the  coercive  pressure  of  society  becomes 
the  all-powerful  influence.  Judgment  is  continually  exercised 

1  Compare  §  46. 


The  Function  of  the  Softool  487 

upon  the  problem  of  meeting  the  approval  of  this  or  that  indi- 
vidual or  social  group.  But  with  growing  experience  the  child 
becomes  aware  of  different  standards,  different  ideals.  Society 
does  not  constitute  a  unit  in  its  judgments.  Among  these 
varying  standards  the  child  must  choose,  and  the  sense  of  this 
task,  and  that  it  devolves  upon  himself,  ushers  in  the  age  of 
independence,  or  intellectual  adolescence.  This  period  usually 
dawns  at  the  time  when  physiological  adolescence  is  in  its 
beginnings.  If  we  apply  these  considerations  to  the  school, 
it  would  seem  that  during  the  age  of  rivalry  the  child  should  The  a«e  of 
be  given  those  essentials,  whether  in  the  way  of  habits  or 
information,  that  society  demands  of  each.  This  includes  the  uniformity 
three  "R's,"  expanded  to  meet  the  demands  of  modern  life. 
The  extent  to  which  the  child  will  at  this  age  submit  to  social 
pressure  makes  it  preeminently  a  time  for  drill,  for  uniformity, 
and  for  fundamentals.  This  does  not  mean  that  elementary 
school  work  should  depend  entirely,  or  even  largely,  upon  such 
pressure.  It  should  be  as  full  of  immediate  interest  as  it  can 
be  made.  It  should  be  as  rich  in  broad  content  studies  and 
in  appeals  to  the  special  tastes  of  children  and  of  the  particular 
child  as  is  consistent  with  its  fundamental  function  of  giving 
the  indispensable.  This  last  it  must  do,  not  merely  because 
the  indispensable  comes  first,  but  because  the  age  of  elementary 
education  is  an  age  of  struggle  to  conform,  when  results  that 
must  be  obtained  can,  if  no  other  way  lies  open,  usually  be 
gained  by  bringing  to  bear  upon  the  child  the  approval  or  dis- 
approval of  those  who  have  him  in  charge. 

It  is  unfortunate  if  the  child  grows  restive  and  critical  of 
this  school  pressure  before  he  has  gained  the  fundamentals. 
For  in  that  event  he  is  likely  never  to  master  them.  The 
critical  spirit  is  born  of  a  sense  of  varying  standards  of  judg- 
ment, and  of  independence  in  insisting  on  one's  own  inclina- 
tions or  ideals.  It  is  the  natural  and  desirable  spirit  for  the 


488 


Principles  of  Education 


Adolescence 
the  time 
for  experi- 
menting 
toward  a 
specialty 


child  who  is  finishing  the  task  of  mastering  the  uniformities 
of  social  heredity  and  entering  upon  that  of  specialization. 
Its  appearance  should  therefore  normally  introduce  a  new  sort 
of  school  work,  work  submitted  to  the  judgment  of  the  pupil 
rather  than  enforced  upon  him.  The  elementary  school  pre- 
sents its  work  and  strives  to  cultivate  interest  in  it,  but  there 
is  no  suggestion  that  this  work  is  subject  to  the  approval  of 
those  who  take  it. 

At  the  coming  of  adolescence,  of  the  age  of  independence, 
the  child  should  be  ready  to  undertake  the  task  of  experiment- 
ing in  the  various  special  lines  of  activity  that  it  appears  pos- 
sible for  him  to  enter.  During  this  age  of  "storm  and  stress" 
the  youth  is  apt  to  run  rapidly  from  this  to  that  ambition. 
Many  things  appeal,  and  it  is,  doubtless,  well  that  he  should 
absorb  himself  in  various  phases  of  human  activity.  Thus 
he  is  not  only  broadened  in  outlook  and  sympathy,  but  is  also 
given  that  experience  from  which  alone  a  satisfactory  choice 
of  a  plan  of  life  can  be  made.  The  period  over  which  the  pro- 
cess of  experimentation  should  extend  varies  with  the  intel- 
lectual ability  of  the  individual.  Those  of  greater  ability  will, 
doubtless,  as  a  rule  take  a  longer  time  to  choose,  inasmuch 
as  they  are  capable  of  entering  upon  vocations  that  involve  a 
more  elaborate  training.  Since  they  cannot  test  their  fitness 
for  these  higher  specialties  without  doing  a  little  experimental 
work  in  the  studies  that  fit  for  them,  the  more  advanced  the 
specialty,  the  longer  the  period  over  which  the  work  prelimi- 
nary to  the  final  differentiation  must  extend. 

It  follows  that,  if  we  designate  as  secondary  all  that  phase 
of  education  which  is  devoted  to  the  problem  of  differentiating 
students  according  to  their  special  talents,  it  extends  over  a 
much  longer  period  than  is  commonly  supposed,  and  covers 
phases  of  school  work  that  are  generally  regarded  as  elementary 
and  higher.  Moreover,  since  differentiation  is  not  a  simple 


The  Function  of  the  Sclwol  489 

affair,  to  be  accomplished  at  one  step,  but  is  rather  a  result  of 
successive  selections,  each  narrowing  somewhat  the  field  of 
choice,    secondary    education    may   include    various   schools, 
the  function  of  which  may  be  said  to  be  that  of  secondary  dif- 
ferentiation.    Primary  differentiation  we  may  define  as  the 
separation  of  the  intellectually  capable  from  those  who  are 
mediocre  or  weak  in  respect  to  mental  power  and  perseverance. 
After  six  years'  work  in  the  elementary  school,  it  is  usually  Secondary 
possible  to  rate  a  pupil  fairly  well  in  general  mental  ability,      ^"uw'bc 
It  is,  therefore,  possible  to  separate  those  who  should  go  on  in      g>n  after 
the  severer  linguistic,  scientific,  and  mathematical  work  of  the     Sioof  h 
traditional  secondary  school  from  those  who  might  safely  be     y**1 
expected  to  fail  in  them.     These  weaker  minds  have  ordinarily 
been  eliminated  from  school  during  the  last  two  years  of  the 
prevailing  eight  years'  elementary  course,   or,   at  any  rate, 
early  in  the  high  school  course.1     It  is  evident  that  a  secondary  The  lowest 
school  is  necessary  which  shall  introduce  them  into  the  kinds     ^deof 

secondary 

of  work  of  which  they  are  capable,  and  lead  them  to  a  point  at     school. 
which  they  can  intelligently  select  some  special  trade  or  occu-      Jrai  school 
pation,  which  they  may  enter  by  the  route  of  vocational  school     <>f  industry 
or  apprenticeship.     Such  a  school  might  well  give  a  certain 
amount  of  liberal  culture,  that  should  broaden  its  students 
as  much  as  their  abilities  permit,  and  train  them  in  civic  life. 

This  lowest  grade  of  secondary  school  corresponds  fairly  Second  grade 
well  to  the  general  industrial  or  trade  schools  that  are  coming     ary 


into  existence  to-day.  They  do  not  aim  to  prepare  for  voca- 
tions, but  merely  to  introduce  to  such  preparation.  Nor  are 
they  high  schools  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  since  they 
do  not  give  any  adequate  preparation  for  college.  The  typical 
high  school  represents  the  second  grade  of  secondary  school. 
There  is  good  reason  for  supposing  that  its  work  might  properly 

1  Compare  The  Elimination  of  Pupils  from  School:  Thorndike  ;  U.  S.  Bureau 
of  Ed.,  Bulletin  No.  4,  1907. 


490  Principles  of  Education 

begin  after  the  sixth  school  year.  In  that  event,  the  elemen- 
tary course  for  all  would  cover  six  years.  The  primary  task 
of  the  high  school  should  be  to  determine  whether  the  student 
may  or  may  not  wisely  aim  to  reach  one  of  the  higher  profes- 
sions. Certain  subjects,  languages,  civics,  science,  and  math- 
ematics, which  form  the  substance  of  the  prevailing  high  school 
course,  will  serve  as  tests  of  those  sorts  of  ability  without 
which,  it  may  justly  be  said,  no  student  can  properly  qualify 
for  any  learned  or  scientific  profession.  Those  who  are  elim- 
inated as  a  result  of  failure  in  these  subjects  should  find  in 
the  high  school  such  courses  as  will  give  them  the  proper  foun- 
dation for  selecting  a  vocational  school  in  which  to  complete 
their  education.  It  may  be  assumed  that  they  will  drift 
into  the  intermediate  positions  in  trade  and  industry.  To 
supply  their  need,  therefore,  the  high  school  should  present 
work  of  the  manual  training  and  commercial  type. 

Highest  The  completion  of  the  college  preparatory  course  does  not 

grade  of      £or  ^nose  wno  are  to  enter  the  higher  professions  conclude  their 

secondary 

school.  -  work  'of  experimental  study.  For  it  yet  remains  to  select  the 
lege  a  special  profession.  Very  few  high  school  graduates  are  in  a 
position  to  decide  this.  Very  many  have  as  yet  decidedly 
hazy  ideas  about  what  they  wish  to  do.  The  traditional  col- 
lege course  is,  properly  speaking,  a  secondary  course,  at  least 
in  its  earlier  years.  If  it  be  held  that  such  a  course  is  necessary 
as  a  preliminary  to  a  choice  of  a  profession,  the  secondary 
course  leading  to  this  sphere  of  life  would  cover  eight  years, 
four  in  the  high  school  and  four  in  the  college.  It  will  be  noted, 
however,  that,  since  two  years  are  cut  from  the  present  elemen- 
tary course,  the  entire  period  of  training  up  to  the  time  of  enter- 
ing the  professional  school  is  two  years  shorter  than  it  is  at 
present  for  those  who  take  the  college  course.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  professional  work,  which  in  many  institutions  enters 
quite  considerably  into  the  collegiate  course,  is,  by  virtue  of  its 


The  Function  of  tke  School 


491 


exclusion  from  secondary  education,  shut  out  from  the  college 
work  of  the  scheme  here  presented. 

Each  of  these  proposed  divisions  of  secondary  education, 
the  general  industrial  school,  the  high  school,  and  the  college, 
leads  into  a  further  phase  of  education,  —  that  devoted  to 
specific  preparation  for  a  vocation.  This  we  may  call  higher 
education,  which  includes  the  lowest  vocational  schools  as 
well  as  those  concerned  in  the  highest  professions.  Thus 
practically  every  child  will  by  this  plan  pass  through  elemen- 
tary, secondary,  and  higher  education.  All  will  receive  the 
same  course  of  training  in  the  elementary  school.  All  will 
get  a  chance  to  exploit  their  tastes  and  abilities  in  the  second- 
ary school,  and  all  will  be  prepared  for  some  specific  vocation 
in  the  higher  school.  Only  by  means  of  some  such  an  arrange- 
ment can  the  function  of  differentiating  selection  be  properly 
performed  by  the  school,  and  it  would  seem  to  offer  that  sub- 
stantial equality  of  educational  opportunity  which  is  the  ideal 
of  the  school  in  a  democracy. 

The  characteristic  feature  of  a  school  that  aims  at  differen- 
tiating selection  is  the  presence  of  the  experimental  subject. 
Such  work  possesses  two  functions.  It  serves  to  broaden  the 
horizon  and  to  test  the  pupil's  aptitudes.  It  may  be  assumed 
that  by  far  the  larger  part  of  the  work  that  is  necessary  to 
give  one  the  breadth  and  catholicity  of  view  expected  of  the 
well  educated  is  involved  in  such  studies  as  also  function  in 
determining  one's  specialty.  The  experimental  subject  will, 
therefore,  because  it  is  necessary  both  for  general  culture  and 
as  a  means  of  "finding"  one's  self,  be  not  elective  but  pre- 
scribed. Thus  the  extent  of  election  is  diminished  and  that  of 
prescription  is  increased.  Election  becomes  primarily  selec- 
tion of  general  courses  of  study  according  to  preferences  that 
are  based  on  an  adequate  demonstration  of  interests  and 
powers.  Within  such  courses  the  work  should  be  quite  gen- 


Function  of 

higher  ed- 
ucation 
that  of 
vocational 
training. 
Secondary 
and  higher 
education 
should  be 
universal 


The  experi- 
mental 
subject  as 
charac- 
teristic of 
the  sec- 
ondary 
school 


492 


Principles  of  Education 


Fields  of 
prescrip- 
tion and 
election 


Passing  and 
honor 
grades  in 
experi- 
mental 
subjects 


erally  prescribed.  In  general,  therefore,  prescription  should 
include  (i)  the  fundamentals  of  culture  indispensable  to  all ; 
(2)  experimental  work  sufficient  to  demonstrate  the  special 
powers  of  the  individual;  and  (3)  the  training  necessary  to 
prepare  for  a  vocation.  Election  should  include,  (i)  the  spe- 
cialty which  the  student  under  the  advice  of  the  school  and 
after  having  completed  the  prescribed  experimental  work 
regards  as  most  desirable;  and  (2)  such  free  electives  as  appeal 
to  his  tastes,  but  lie  outside  the  line  of  work  which  he  has  already 
selected  as  a  specialty.  This  second  type  of  elective  work 
would,  of  course,  be  connected  largely  with  the  later  phases 
of  secondary  education  or  with  the  course  in  the  vocational 
school.  The  desirability  of  keeping  alive  broader  interests 
after  the  initiation  of  professional  work  proper  would  seem  to 
justify  the  requirement  of  a  certain  amount  of  such  free  elec- 
tive work  as  a  condition  for  secondary  and  higher  degrees 
and  diplomas. 

The  work  of  the  students  in  experimental  subjects  should 
probably  be  graded  in  a  special  way.  On  the  one  hand,  there 
should  be  a  standard  of  passing,  which  is  sufficiently  low  to  be 
attained  by  practically  every  properly  industrious  individual 
whose  ability  enables  him  to  get  on  far  enough  to  reach  the 
subject.  Such  a  grade  might  be  construed  as  permission  to 
drop  the  subject,  whereas  a  failure  to  pass,  since  it  implies 
some  defect  in  application,  would  mean  that  the  subject  must 
be  taken  over  as  a  condition  of  continuance  in  the  school,  or,  at 
least,  of  graduation  therefrom.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
should  be  an  honor  mark,  signifying  such  excellence  as  permits 
and  encourages  the  continuance  of  the  recipient  in  more  ad- 
vanced work  of  the  same  character.  Thus  the  marking  in  ex- 
perimental work  gains  a  practical  value  as  a  guide,  and  often 
a  constraining  force  toward  the  selection  of  the  specialty  for 
which  the  individual  is  fitted. 


The  Ftmction  of  tlie  School  493 

The  history  of  secondary  education  shows  a  drift  toward  the  Purposes  of 
function  that  we  have  here  assigned  to  it.     Since  the  Renais-      ^cond?r> 

education 

sance  the  secondary  school  may  be  said  to  have  had  three  dis-  since  the 
tinct  purposes,  and  to  have  dimly  adumbrated  a  fourth. 
First  of  all,  it  has  aimed  at  liberal  culture,  then,  at  preparing  for 
college.  Of  late,  it  has  endeavored  to  undertake  the  task  of 
preparing  for  life,  and  so  of  becoming  to  a  considerable  extent 
a  school  for  vocational  training.  Experience  with  this  work  has 
led  to  the  conviction  that  it  should  give,  not  vocational  train- 
ing, but  rather  certain  foundations  that  underlie  a  number 
of  vocations.  It  is  forced  to  confine  its  work  to  these  because 
its  students  are  for  the  most  part  floundering  about  in  search 
of  what  they  want,  and  incapable  for  lack  of  adequate  ex- 
perience of  making  an  intelligent  choice. 

The  secondary  school  began  as  an  institution  to  provide  (0  social 
for  the  aristocracy  a  culture  valuable  for  leadership  and  for 
leisure.  It  prepared  for  polite  social  life,  for  diplomacy,  for 
the  appreciation  of  literature  or  art  or  philosophy  or  science 
for  its  own  sake.  All  these  aims  are  psychologically  related 
to  adolescence,  because  at  this  time  the  growth  of  social  interest 
and  of  devotion  to  ideals  reaches  its  climax.  It  is  true  that 
the  secondary  programs  have  been  so  conservatively  guarded 
that  they  have  often  appeared  antiquated,  and  to  serve  as  little 
more  than  a  device  to  bring  the  youth  into  an  intercourse  that 
has  been  of  great  value  as  a  means  of  social  training.  Never- 
theless, social  and  civic  culture  remains  to-day  one  of  the 
principal  functions  of  secondary  education,  and,  doubtless,  a 
permanent  one.  The  subsidiary  playful  activities  of  the  stu- 
dents will  combine  with  a  considerable  part  of  the  curriculum 
to  contribute  toward  this  result. 

In  the  course  of  time,  the  secondary  school  came  to  be  largely  (2) 
concerned  in  preparing  for  higher  institutions  of  learning.     At 
the  Renaissance  it  was  very  imperfectly  related  to  the  uni-      preparing 


494 


Principles  of  Education 


for  univer- 
sity or  col- 
lege 


Revolt 
against 
the  pre- 
paratory 
school 
ideal 


(3)  Rise  of 
the  ideal 
of  prepar- 
ing for 
life 


The  high 
school  stu- 
dent not 
prepared 
to  select  a 
vocation   • 


versity.  Indeed,  it  was  a  rival  institution,  offering  a  con- 
siderably modified  course  of  study  in  response  to  a  newly 
developed  demand  on  the  part  of  the  aristocracy  and  the 
middle  classes.  The  expansion  of  university  work  led  the 
secondary  schools  to  drop  into  the  position  of  preparing  for 
them.  This  transformation  is  especially  in  evidence  in  the 
United  States,  where  the  academies  and  high  schools,  which 
in  the  beginning  of  their  history  offered  what  seemed  then 
like  a  fairly  complete  liberal  course,  paralleling  and  in  certain 
respects  even  surpassing  that  of  the  college,  have  sunk  back 
into  preparatory  schools.  Thus  our  continuous  ladder  has 
been  perfected,  at  the  cost  of  leaving  out  of  consideration 
provision  for  differentiation. 

For  over  a  decade  there  has  been  going  on  a  vigorous  revolt 
against  this  conception.  The  spread  of  the  secondary  schools 
into  all  parts  of  the  country,  involving  an  enormous  increase 
in  attendance,  has  brought  before  the  public  attention  the 
problem  of  satisfactory  training  for  that  vast  majority  of 
high  school  students  who  do  not  reach  the  college.  The  high 
rate  of  elimination  during  the  first  and  second  years  of  the 
high  school  course  suggests  that  the  existing  program  does 
not  meet  the  needs  of  most  of  those  who  enter  upon  it.  The 
result  has  been  the  growth  of  an  independent  spirit  on  the  part 
of  the  high  schools.  Since  the  number  of  students  who  go  to 
college  is  small,  they  have  come  to  feel  that  their  main  problem 
is  that  of  preparing  the  rest  for  life.  They  have  been  building 
up  courses  in  commerce  and  industry,  and  have  drifted  rapidly 
toward  vocational  training. 

We  have  seen  that  endeavors  in  this  direction  have  been 
compelled  to  submit  to  amendment  because  those  entering  the 
high  schools  are  not  yet  ready  to  select  a  vocation.  The  sec- 
ondary schools  must  continue  to  be  preparatory.  But  it  is 
far  from  necessary  that  they  should  confine  themselves  to 


The  Function  of  the  School 


495 


preparing  for  college,  or  even  for  the  professional  schools.  In- 
deed, it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  that  they  should  come 
to  regard  as  their  most  important  function  that  of  leading  each 
student  into  that  vocational  or  professional  school  for  which 
he  is  best  fitted  by  nature. 

Thus  the  tendency  in  secondary  education  seems  to  be 
toward  the  assumption  of  the  function  of  differentiating  selec- 
tion as  its  main  service.  This  *  function  is  especially  impor- 
tant in  the  education  of  the  adolescent,  and  it  should  probably 
begin  to  dominate  school  work  as  early  as  the  seventh  year. 
Here,  then,  secondary  education  should  begin,  and  there  are 
many  signs  that  the  elementary  school  of  the  future  will  offer 
only  a  six  years'  course.  To  make  this  practicable  it  is  neces- 
sary to  have  the  secondary  system  completed  by  the  addition 
of  the  general  industrial  school  to  take  charge  of  the  fortunes 
of  those  who  are  manifestly  ill  adapted  to  the  high  school. 
Differentiation  on  the  basis  of  general  ability  will  separate 
those  who  go  to  the  general  industrial  school  from  those  who 
go  to  the  high  school,  and  again,  those  who  go  from  the  high 
school  into  special  vocational  schools  from  those  who  go  to 
college.  The  function  of  differentiation  on  the  basis  of  special 
abilities  will  be  performed  for  one  group  by  the  general  in- 
dustrial school,  for  a  second,  by  the  courses  in  commerce  and 
industry  in  the  high  schools,  and  for  the  professional  classes, 
by  the  college.  In  many  features  this  plan  is  in  existence  to- 
day. General  or  intermediate  industrial  schools  to  care  for 
those  who  drop  out  of  grammar  or  high  schools  are  coming  into 
existence.  The  high  schools  are  expanding  their  courses  to 
bring  them  in  touch  with  the  vocations,  yet  they  are  being 
driven  to  differentiate  their  work  from  that  of  the  special  vo- 
cational schools.  They  are  encroaching  upon  the  liberal  stud- 
ies of  the  college,  on  the  one  hand,  and  reaching  down  to  take 
in  the  brightest  children  of  the  upper  grammar  grades,  on  the 


ent  tend- 
ency to- 
ward a  dif- 
ferentiat- 
ing rather 
than  a  vo- 
cational 
course 


496  Principles  of  Education 

other.  They  are  thus  not  only  expanding,  but  also  extending 
their  course.  The  colleges  are  struggling  with  the  problems 
of  introducing  professional  work  which  will  count  for  a  degree, 
of  cutting  down  the  time  of  the  regular  course,  of  adapting 
their  programs  to  the  needs  of  to-day.  More  than  ever  it  is 
evident  that  the  work  of  their  two  first  years  belongs,  where  it 
is  placed  in  Europe,  in  the  scheme  of  secondary  education. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  American  college  is  likely  to  remain 
distinct  from  the  high  school,  since  there  is  need  of  a  specific 
institution  to  introduce  to  the  study  of  the  professions. 

SECTION  54.     The  school  as  determinative  of  social  heredity 

The  stand-         We  have  seen  that  the  school  not  only  examines  the  indi- 
vidual with  reference  both  to  general  fitness  for  social  service 

LAcUIllIKL-  <-•' 

tion  as  the  and  to  special  aptitudes,  but  also  selects  the  material  that 
social  he-  shall  enter  into  the  culture  of  all  and  each.  Thus  it  determines 
redity  social  heredity,  eliminating  the  useless  and  the  antiquated, 
and  prescribing  that  which  the  judgment  of  its  leaders  regards 
as  making  for  the  highest  efficiency  of  the  individual  and  of 
society.  However,  in  its  earlier  stages  social  heredity  is  an 
exceedingly  inflexible  affair.1  The  school  in  determining  it 
merely  conserves  the  established  practices,  adding  the  weight 
of  its  influence  to  the  forces  making  for  permanence.  More- 
over, the  function  of  instruction  is  at  first  largely  bound  up  in 
that  of  examination.  It  is  in  setting  a  standard  by  conforming 
to  which  the  child  wins  the  approval  of  school  and  so  of  so- 
ciety that  the  school  determines  the  habits,  ideas,  and  ideals 
of  the  young.  At  first,  it  is  not  so  much  concerned  in  ques- 
tioning the  worth  of  its  standards  as  in  determining  by  means 
of  them  the  worth  of  the  individual.  Eliminating  the  unfit, 
selecting,  grading,  absorb  the  attention  of  teachers,  and  the 
standards  of  tradition  are  uncritically  assumed. 

1  Compare  §  10. 


The  Fimction  of  the  School 


497 


The  shifting  of  attention  from  exclusive  devotion  to  the 
task  of  eliminative  selection  over  to  that  of  selecting  social 
heredity  comes  as  a  result  of  the  accumulation  of  materials  of 
culture.  The  growth  of  the  content  of  social  heredity  is  in- 
evitable unless  conservatism  sets  about  resolutely  to  check  it. 
The  rise  of  such  a  warfare  upon  innovation  is  the  first  form  of 
a  conscious  endeavor  on  the  part  of  the  school  to  control  the 
subject  matter  of  the  education  of  the  young.  This  attitude 
would,  however,  seem  to  preclude  any  advance  to  a  rational 
determination  of  social  heredity,  thus  smothering  this  function 
in  its  infancy.  On  the  other  hand,  the  forces,  both  internal 
and  external,  that  make  for  progress1  ultimately  compel  a 
reconstruction  of  the  culture  material.  The  control  of  this 
reconstruction,  like  that  of  the  earlier  conservation,  must  be 
exercised  either  by  or  through  the  school. 

The  development  of  independence  on  the  part  of  the  school 
in  the  exercise  of  this  function  is  the  growth  of  academic  free- 
dom, which  was  considered  in  the  last  chapter.  This  result 
has  been,  as  we  have  seen,  the  achievement  of  the  modern 
democratic  state,  the  state  that  aims  to  be  free  from  the  con- 
trol of  privileged  classes.  In  primitive  society  the  school 
expressed  in  its  instruction  the  ingrained  conservatism  of  this 
epoch  of  culture.  The  group  possessed  but  one  type  of  edu- 
cation, and  its  fitness  was  questioned  by  none.  Civilization 
came  by  the  route  of  the  warfare  of  cultures,  and  the  forma- 
tion of  the  composite  state  with  various  classes,  each  having 
its  own  culture,  one  dominant,  the  others  subordinate.2  In 
such  a  condition  the  school  continues  conservative,  for  it 
expresses  the  wishes  of  a  ruling  class  that  strives  to  preserve 
its  privileges.  The  school  determines  social  heredity,  but  in 
subjection  to  the  will  of  a  class. 

There  is  one  feature  of  this  composite  society  that  is  of 

1  Compare  §  39.  *  Compare  §  14. 


The  accumu- 
lation of 
culture  and 
the  rise  of 
conscious 
•election 


Early  con- 
servatism 
and  sub- 
ordination 
of  the 
school   in 
its  work 


498  Principles  of  Education 

Specialized      great  importance  in  reference  to  the  future  function  of  the 
cultures  m  g^^i      it  is  a  social  order  that  involves  not  one  culture,  but 

classified 

society  many,  and,  although  one  is  recognized  as  best,  each  comes  to 
require  a  special  sort  of  talent.  Thus  we  have  the  rise  of  spe- 
cialization, and  specialization  creates  for  the  school,  when  once 
a  democratic  society  has  decided  against  the  assignment  of 
specialties  according  to  birth,  the  problem  of  differentiating 
selection. 

When  once  the  forces  that  undermine  the  conservatism  of 
early  culture  have  succeeded  in  creating  so  much  material 
that  it  becomes  necessary  for  selection  to  reduce  this  to  such 
proportions  as  can  be  contained  in  a  practicable  course  of 
study,  then  the  problem  of  determining  social  heredity  becomes 
a  vital  one  for  the  school.     If  the  individual  cannot  be  trusted 
to  select  that  which  he  is  best  fitted  to  do  unless  he  has  the 
active,  and,  indeed,    the   coercive   assistance   of   the   school, 
neither  can  society  expect  any  rational  determination  of  the 
course  of  study  so  long  as  the  teachers  are  dependent  in  this 
Academic       function  upon  the  wishes  of  any  class  or  party.     Academic 
thTbasis  of  freed°m  is  tne  only  condition  of  an  efficient,  progressive,  and 
rational       fair  control  of  the  work  of  education.     This  proposition  has 
Soda?      keen  debated  at  length  in  the  preceding  chapter.     Here  it  re- 
heredity      mains  to  outline  the  method  by  which  authority  in  the  school 
and  freedom  in  the  child  may,  so  far  as  the  course  of  study  is 
concerned,  be  made  to  work  together  most  efficiently. 
Authority  in       A  certain  authoritativeness  on  the  part  of  the  school,  so 
aslhe  bTsL  ^r  ^rom  rePressmg  tne  individuality,  as  many  think  it  is  likely 
of  freedom    to  do,1  may  become  the  foundation  of  the  highest  degree  of 
freedom.     Freedom  consists  in  achievement  along  lines  that 
seem  to  the  individual  worth  while.     It  is,  therefore,  based 
on  the  experience  that  gives  one  a  trustworthy  sense  of  values, 

1  Thus  Herbart   (Applications  of  Psychology  to  Education,  Letter  XXXII) 
and  Spencer  (National  Education)  fear  state  control  as  too  authoritative. 


The  Function  of  the  School 


499 


program 
as  the  out- 
come of  ex- 
periment 


and  upon  the  knowledge  and  skill  that  enables  him  to  be 
effective  in  the  world  of  men.  In  both  these  respects  the 
guidance  of  the  school  is  indispensable.  It  must  compel  all 
to  get  certain  fundamentals  of  culture.  It  must  require  each 
to  submit  to  its  prescriptions  and  tests  before  admitting  him 
to  such  studies  as  he  feels  called  to  elect  as  a  specialty.  So  far 
as  free  electives  are  concerned,  it  should  permit  the  maximum 
of  election  consistent  with  efficiency,  but  must  determine 
the  electives  that  are  worth  while  and  shut  out  the  others.  It 
should,  above  all,  continually  experiment  on  new  methods 
of  teaching  and  new  courses  or  materials  for  instruction.  But  The  school 
it  will  not  content  itself  with  offering  this  experimental  work, 
trusting  to  its  appeal  to  parent  or  pupil  as  a  measure  of  its 
success.  On  the  contrary,  a  constant  endeavor  will  be  made 
to  determine  the  success  or  failure  of  these  experiments  by 
collecting  data  in  regard  to  their  effects  over  long  ranges  of 
time.  Thus  survival  will  be  made  to  depend  upon  intelligent 
selection  rather  than  upon  individual  preferences  founded 
upon  caprice  or  imperfect  evidence,  and  incapable  of  definitely 
and  finally  determining  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  any  educa- 
tional values. 

The  progressive  school  will,  therefore,  not  be,  as  Mr.  Spencer 
thinks,  the  school  that  offers  to  the  individual  anything  that 
he  may  chance  to  want.  The  free  play  of  individuality  with- 
out any  adequate  selective  agency  to  determine  which  of  the 
products  of  such  activity  shall  survive  does  not  lead  to  prog- 
ress. The  experiments  of  the  school  will  be  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  school  itself,  rather  than  under  that  of  pupil  or 
parent.  The  creativeness  that  is  intrusted  with  the  task  of 
improving  social  heredity  will  not  be  that  of  immature  or  in- 
experienced childhood  or  of  men  whose  training  makes  them 
expert  in  other  than  educational  matters,  but  it  will  be  that 
of  the  leaders  among  the  teachers  themselves.  The  decisions 


500  Principles  of  Education 

that  the  school  reaches  will  be  embodied  in  the  program  that 
it  gradually  evolves.  This  program  will,  of  course,  have  to 
be  accepted  by  the  public,  but  it  will  be  sufficiently  elastic  to 
permit  the  adequate  expression  of  individuality.  A  protest 
on  the  part  of  parent  or  child  or  society  in  general  against 
what  the  school  offers  can  be  met  either  by  the  inauguration 
of  a  new  experiment  or  by  a  reference  to  the  data  in  regard  to 
the  failure  of  previous  ones. 

In  the  previous  chapter  it  was  pointed  out  that  academic 
freedom  must  be  safeguarded  by  such  checks  as  insure  the 
constant  attention  of  the  school  to  those  needs  of  social  life 
which  it  is  the  province  of  education  to  supply.  Historically 
the  teachers  have  always  concerned  themselves  with  greater  or 
less  success,  not  only  in  preserving,  but  also  in  bettering  the 
ideals  of  society.  They  have  preached  a  gospel  of  the  higher 
life,  which  in  many  cases  seems  to  have  divorced  them  from 
practical  affairs.  In  modern  times  they  have  become  inter- 
ested not  only  in  improving  the  morale,  of  society,  but  also  in 
inventing  better  methods  of  bringing  about  generally  recog- 
nized aims.  The  school  reflects  the  attitude  of  the  time  in  its 
conception  of  its  duty.  Our  universities  were  not  at  first  cen- 
ters of  scientific  research.  This  was  because  society  itself  was 
slow  in  realizing  the  need  of  becoming  consciously  progressive 
in  matters  of  knowledge.  Once  alive  to  that  need,  and  its 
accredited  organ,  the  school,  becomes  the  natural  agency  to 
The  school  carry  on  this  function.  To-day  the  university  is  the  home 
home  of  re-  °^  research.  Again,  the  task  of  applying  science  to  the  arts 
search  and  of  life  was  for  many  years  left  to  outsiders,  to  practical  men, 
and  the  universities  contented  themselves  with  researches  that, 
instead  of  aiming  at  improving  human  conditions  in  material 
ways,  were  animated  solely  by  the  desire  of  extending  the 
bounds  of  human  knowledge.  To-day  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
the  inventor,  the  expert  in  the  application  of  science  to  any 


The  Function  of  the  School  501 

phase  of  practice,  is  rapidly  coming  to  find  his  home  in  the 
professional  departments  of  the  higher  institutions  of  learning. 
Here  he  may  find  an  assured  income  for  support,  and  resources 
for  experimentation  that  are  adequate.  Moreover,  the  results 
of  his  research  are  not  private  monopolies  to  be  exploited  by 
clever  business  men  for  their  own  profit,  but  can  be  utilized  by 
all.  We  are  coming  to  see  that  progress  in  efficiency  is  far  more 
swift  and  effective  when  supported  by  special  agencies  that  are 
incorporated  in  the  school,  than  when  it  is  left  merely  to  the 
interests  of  private  enterprise.  The  assumption  of  respon- 
sibility for  the  betterment  of  social  heredity  will  remove  the 
last  argument  against  intrusting  to  the  school  the  authority 
to  determine  what  its  content  shall  be. 

Our  main  contentions  are,  then,  first,  that  the  function  of  Conclusion 
determining  social  heredity  cannot  be  avoided  by  the  school ; 
second,  that  it  exercises  this  function  in  a  manner  which  ex- 
presses the  dominant  spirit  and  tendencies  of  the  society  of 
the  age  ;  third,  that  if  the  age  be  progressive,  a  powerful, 
independent,  and  resourceful  school  will  direct  and  accelerate 
that  progress  far  more  effectively  than  a  weak  and  dependent 
one. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


Variety  of 
the  aca- 
demic in- 
terests 


Restriction 
of  the 
school  to 
the  aca- 
demic.   Its 
willingness 
to  devote 
itself  to 
this 


THE  ACADEMIC  AND  THE  PRACTICAL 

SECTION  55.     The  evolution  of  the  academic 

WE  have  defined  the  " academic"  as  a  form  of  culture  pur- 
sued for  its  own  sake  and  without  reference  to  practical  appli- 
cation. Religion,  philosophy,  ethics,  science,  art,  even  busi- 
ness, may  tend  to  become  "academic."  By  a  strange  paradox, 
the  man  of  intense  worldly  activity  may  come  to  regard  this 
activity  as  valuable  without  reference  to  its  relation  to  human 
life  as  a  whole,  and  so  become  "academic"  in  the  universal 
sense  of  the  term.  He  may  get  things  done  just  for  the  sake 
of  getting  them  done.  He  may  glorify  busy-ness.  He  may  be 
intoxicated  with  the  desire  to  make  money  without  reference 
to  its  uses.  He  may  absorb  himself  in  a  life  of  mere  strenuous- 
ness,  and  so  become  as  genuinely  "academic"  as  Plato  him- 
self. 

This  universal  meaning  of  the  term  must  be  kept  in  mind 
whenever  the  relation  of  the  academic  to  the  practical  is  con- 
sidered. However,  since  the  great  historic  academic  interests 
are  those  of  religion,  philosophy,  science,  ethics,  and  art,  we 
will  in  the  present  section  limit  ourselves  to  them.  We  have 
already  taken  account  of  what  may  be  called  the  negative 
reason  for  the  devotion  of  the  school  to  unworldly  aims.1 
Only  at  the  price  of  restricting  its  investigations  and  its  teach- 
ing to  academic  issues  was  this  institution  able  to  gain  freedom 
in  these  matters.  However,  if  this  were  the  only  reason  for 

1  Compare  §  50. 
502 


The  Academic  and  l/ie  Practical  503 

the  devotion  of  the  school  to  the  academic,  its  attitude  would 
be,  indeed,  inglorious.  Such  an  explanation  cannot  account 
for  the  enthusiasm  of  schoolmen  about  the  pursuits  that  ab- 
sorb them.  There  must  be  positive  reasons  that  lie  back  of  the 
extraordinary  prestige  that  the  ideals  of  truth,  beauty,  and 
goodness  have  enjoyed  and  still  enjoy  in  the  minds  of  men. 
These  positive  reasons  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  section  to  con- 
sider. 

It  is  probable  that  the  love  both  of  knowledge  and  of  beauty  instinctive 
find  their  roots  in  instinct.     Instinctive  curiosity  lies  back  of      b*»sof 

*  the  aca- 

the  philosophic   and   scientific   ideal,   and   aesthetic   taste   is      demicat- 
grounded  in  native  love  of  rhythm,  harmony  of  form,  melody, 
etc.     In  the  early  history  of  man,  however,  these  instincts 
served  a  use  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  detect.     Primitive  utilitarian 
intellectual  and  artistic  interests  are  always  close  to  the  utili-      £{  ^ariyer 
ties.     Intelligence  was  at  first  so  absorbed  in  the  dire  problem      culture 
of  satisfying  the  simplest  human  needs  that  it  could  hardly 
devote  itself  to  academic  ideals.     Religion,  philosophy,  art, 
and  ethics  are  in   their  beginnings  eminently  practical  and 
worldly.     They  become  academic  by  virtue  of  an  inner  growth, 
the  main  phases  of  which  can  readily  be  seen. 

If  we  begin  with  religion,  we  discover  that  as  soon  as  the  Religion  at 
human  mind  began  to  make  its  incursions  into  the  realm  of  l 

the  supernatural,  it  proceeded  to  put  to  use  its  superstitions. 
The  intellect  of  the  individual  discovers  outside  himself  other 
personality,  endowed  with  interests  and  power  to  realize  them. 
The  volitions  of  these  persons  explain  much  of  that  which 
otherwise  would  seem  utterly  unaccountable,  because  so  irreg- 
ular and  capricious.  He  naturally  extends  this  explanation  to 
account  for  everything  that  rouses  wonder  by  varying  from 
the  customary,  and  the  will  of  a  person  is  seen  behind  each 
unusual  event.  Especially  is  this  true  of  those  phenomena 
that  affect  human  welfare.  Man's  experience  of  the  benefi- 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  the 
contrast 
between 
temporal 
and  eter- 
nal power 


Worship  as 
the  leading 


cence  of  human  friendship  and  of  the  terrible  consequences  of 
human  hate  is  so  intense  that  he  cannot  fail  to  discover  these 
motives  behind  the  good  and  the  evil  that  come  from  nature. 
Thus  imagination,  unchecked  by  scientific  tests,  sees  the  voli- 
tions of  supernatural  beings  behind  all  the  important  events 
in  the  natural  world,  and  cunning  strives  to  ascertain  the 
intentions  of  these  wills,  and,  perchance,  to  influence  them  to 
serve  the  welfare  of  the  self  or  of  the  social  group. 

The  interest  of  primitive  man  in  the  attitudes  of  gods  and 
demons  is  continually  deepened  by  the  magnitude  of  the  forces 
that  these  beings  are  supposed  to  control.  All  that  the  intel- 
ligence or  power  of  man  can  accomplish  is  as  nothing  in  the 
hands  of  the  mysterious  agencies  that  govern  the  supply  of 
game,  the  rain,  the  crops,  disease,  and  health,  the  outcome  of 
conflict,  in  short,  everything  but  that  narrow  circle  of  events 
that  receives  some  feeble  light  from  human  insight  and  falls 
directly  under  the  grip  of  human  will.  Thus  to  know  the  will 
of  the  gods  becomes  the  most  important  knowledge,  and  to  be 
able  to  influence  it  the  most  important  power.  Moreover, 
as  human  memory  is  strengthened  by  oral  and  at  length  by 
written  tradition,  the  sense  of  the  limitations  of  human  fore- 
sight and  the  transitory  nature  of  human  effort  becomes  even 
greater.  Man  may  do  a  little  now,  but  that  little  becomes 
infinitesimal  when  we  consider  how  quickly  it  disappears. 
The  gods,  who  are  all-powerful,  are  by  an  inevitable  logic 
endowed  with  immortality.  They  are  the  eternal  forces. 
Man's  activity  is  temporal,  fleeting,  insignificant.  The  en- 
deavor of  the  imagination  to  invent  a  being  worthy  of  the 
feeling  of  awe  with  which  the  human  mind  confronts  the  ever- 
lasting is,  doubtless,  one  of  the  psychical  factors  that  leads 
to  the  sublime  generalization  of  Monotheism. 

It  is  plain  that  the  absorption  of  the  mind  in  the  task  of 
the  favor  of  the  supernatural  powers  tends  to  draw 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  505 

it  away  from  the  endeavor  to  master  nature  directly.     The      method  of 
consciousness  of  the  magnitude  of  the  unknown  and  of  the      «•«*»•• 

Its  failure 

apparent  helplessness  of  human  ability  to  master  it  leads  man      in  this  role 

to  seek  the  desired  things  mainly  through  the  forms  of  worship. 

However,  the  responses  of  the  gods  to  prayer  and  sacrifice, 

or  to  neglect,  insult,  and  the  spoliation  of  their  temples  are  not 

always  immediate  or  certain.     Often  it  seems  as  though  a 

deity  had  failed  to  remember  his  followers,  or  was  bestowing 

favors  with  no  regard  to  service.     Thus  men  became  convinced 

that  "it  rains  alike  on  the  just  and  the  unjust,"  and  the  patience 

of  Job  is  necessary  to  preserve  faith  in  the  midst  of  the  strange 

dispensations    of    an    incomprehensible    Providence.     Under 

such  conditions  the  human  mind  naturally  takes  refuge  in  the 

thought  that  to  an  everlasting  God  the  events  of  human  life 

are  not  of  such  significance  as  they  seem  to  man.    What  to  Contrast  be- 

man,  limited  in  vision  to  the  years  of  a  life,  appears  as  vitally 

important,   to   God,  who  knows  eternity,  seems  as  trivial,     worldly 

What  man  regards  as  injustice,   God  intends  as  discipline. 

"Whom  the  Lord  loveth,  He  chasteneth."    Thus  man  begins 

to  lose  confidence,  not  only  in  his  power  over  nature,  but  also 

in  the  accuracy  of  his  judgment  in  regard  to  what  constitutes 

practical  success.     After  all,  life  is  full  of  vanities,  with  which 

God  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  much  sympathy.    We  are 

in  His  hands;  what  need  to  worry  over  worldly  failure  or  suc- 

cess ?     The  important  things  are  the  things  of  eternity. 

Thus  religious  belief,  leading  man  to  strive  to  gain  his  ends  Rise  of  »c*- 
by  the  intervention  of  the  gods,  turns  the  attention  away  from 
the  directly  to  the  indirectly  practical.  Then,  through  the 
failure  of  such  practice  to  gain  what  is  expected,  it  causes  him 
to  despise  practical  considerations  as  of  no  permanent  impor- 
tance. A  similar  devotion  to  the  academic  appears  in  the 
development  of  philosophy  and  science.  Philosophy,  of  which 
science  is  an  offshoot,  has  been  from  its  beginnings  an  endeavor 


506 


Principles  of  Education 


Early  phi- 
losophy a 
practical 
art 


Philosophy 
as  the 
study  of 
the  per-  \ 
manent 
nature  of 
things 


to  rationalize  life,  to  adapt  conduct  to  permanent  rather  than 
temporary  conditions,  and  to  do  this  by  getting  at  the  deeper 
meanings  of  things,  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  conforming  hu- 
man attitudes  to  them,  on  the  other.  Thus  it  has  always  been 
associated  with  effective  practice.  The  philosopher  was  tra- 
ditionally the  wise  man,  the  man  who  penetrated  to  ultimate 
causes  and  regulated  his  life  thereby,  one  who  knew  the  motives 
of  men  and  how  to  manage  them  and  to  give  them  laws,  one 
who  knew  the  properties  of  natural  things  and  could  use  them 
to  accomplish  remarkable  things  like  the  cure  of  disease,  the 
prediction  of  eclipses,  the  invention  of  engines  of  war. 

Philosophy  springs  from  religious  speculation.  The  contin- 
ued reflection  on  the  causes  of  things  leads  thinkers  to  discover 
uniformities  in  nature  rather  than  caprice .  Indeed ,  the  volitions 
of  men  come  to  be  regarded  as  subject  to  law.  The  philosopher 
interests  himself  in  the  endeavor  to  formulate  the  principle  or 
principles  that  lie  behind  all  the  phenomena  of  experience.  The 
theological  character  of  early  philosophy  is  seen  in  that  these 
principles  are  usually  regarded  as  the  nature  of  God.  Such 
a  God  is,  however,  not  a  Being  to  be  influenced  by  adulation 
or  neglect.  He  is  a  Fate,  an  irreversible  law,  a  permanent 
behind  the  transitory  phases  of  experience. 

The  study  of  first  causes,  although  calculated,  as  we  have 
seen,  to  rationalize  life,  led  man's  attention  away  from  the 
endeavor  to  control  nature  through  a  mastery  of  her  laws.  First 
of  all,  philosophy  possessed  no  method  and  had  not  yet  accu- 
mulated sufficient  data  to  get  acquainted  with  the  more  recon- 
dite properties  of  natural  things.  Hence,  its  speculations  did 
not  result  in  any  very  rapid  or  very  startling  reconstructions 
of  the  methods  of  attaining  the  ordinary  ambitions  of  men. 
This  fact  made  it  easier  for  the  mind  to  discredit  the  importance 
of  such  applications,  when  once  this  negative  attitude  was 
suggested  as  a  result  of  the  further  progress  of  philosophy. 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  507 

Second,  the  contrast  between  the  immutable,  which  reason  thcpbe- 
demands  and  finds,  and  the  transitory,  which  the  senses  appre-  jiu^™1  ° 
hend,  led  men  to  believe  that  there  is  an  impassable  chasm 
between  the  absolute  and  the  phenomena  of  experience.  The 
latter  came  to  be  regarded  as  non-being,  as  unreal,  illusory. 
The  senses  that  tell  us  that  they  exist  were  held  to  be  decep- 
tive. Only  reason,  which  fathoms  the  nature  of  the  transcend- 
ent, the  immutable,  can,  on  this  view,  reach  reality,  and  so  be 
relied  upon  to  tell  the  truth.  The  Platonic  idealism  represents 
the  ultimate  outcome  of  this  view.  The  true  reality  is  held  to 
be  the  form,  the  universal  idea.  Change  is  chance,  Matter  is 
imperfection,  corruption,  non-being.  Particular  things  have 
reality  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  copies  of  the  idea,  —  that  is, 
partake  of  it.  The  goal  of  mental  and  moral  activity  is  to 
attain  knowledge  of  the  idea,  to  be  at  one  with  it  in  conduct 
and  thought. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  discussion  to  enter  into  a  criti-  philosophy 
cism  of  the  Platonic  philosophy.  One  cannot  question,  how- 
ever, that  interpretation  of  Platonism  which  makes  the  highest 
occupation  of  man  the  search  for  knowledge  for  its  own  sake. 
The  philosopher,  the  lover  of  truth,  is  not  worldly,  and  to  the 
worldly  he  must  seem  impractical.  He  seems  impractical 
because  in  a  sense  he  is  practical,  in  making  his  conduct  cor- 
respond to  his  theory.  He  busies  himself  in  the  study  of  that 
which  cannot  improve  his  worldly  fortunes.  His  rule,  if  he 
were  permitted  to  rule,  would  not  be  opportunism.  He  would 
constrain  human  conduct  within  the  lines  of  a  plan  that  would 
consider  not  the  exigencies  of  the  moment,  but  the  pattern  of 
the  absolute.  Such  a  man  cannot  fail  to  be  regarded  as  im- 
practical. The  practicalities  of  ordinary  men  are  to  him  futil- 
ities. He  loves  with  that  sublimated  passion  which  has  been 
called  Platonic  love  the  permanent,  the  perfect,  the  ideal,  the 
divine.  Platonism  represents  in  its  most  typical  form  the 


508 


Principles  of  Education 


Ethics  at 
first  con- 
cerned in 
the  rules  of 
prudence 


Failure  of 
prudence 
to  justify 
its  prac- 
tices 


love  of  truth  for  its  own  sake.  Thus  we  find  in  the  culmina- 
tion of  philosophic  speculation  among  the  Greeks  an  attitude 
quite  comparable  to  the  outcome  of  religious  reflection  among 
the  Hebrews  and  in  the  Orient.  As  God  transcends  the  finite 
and  cares  little  for  the  fortunes  of  the  hour,  having  an  eternity 
in  which  to  accomplish  His  purposes,  so  reality  transcends  the 
sphere  of  circumstance,  and  calls  the  lover  of  truth  away  from 
the  unintelligible  spectacle  of  the  phenomenal  world  to  the 
majestic  uniformities  and  permanences  of  the  world  of  ideas. 

Corresponding  with  these  religious  and  speculative  move- 
ments, there  is  an  ethical  movement  the  outcome  of  which  is 
similar.  When  men  first  begin  to  reason  about  conduct, 
they  naturally  assume  that  it  aims  at  prosperity  more  or  less 
immediate.  As  the  range  of  ethical  experience  widens,  they 
come  to  substitute  more  and  more  remote  aims  for  the  simpler 
ones  that  lie  near  at  hand.  However,  it  is  as  yet  concrete 
good  fortune  at  which  all  conduct  aims.  One  simply  gives  up 
the  lesser  pleasures  for  the  larger  success  ;  for  power,  influence, 
prestige,  wealth,  or  health  he  barters  the  immediate  satisfaction 
of  his  impulses  and  appetites. 

But  further  reflection  convinces  the  thinker  that,  no  matter 
how  carefully  he  orders  his  life,  it  does  not  seem  possible  to 
assure  himself  of  earthly  success.  No  human  power  can  avail 
against  disease,  false  friends,  the  accidents  of  nature,  or  the 
fickleness  of  society.  Prudence,  as  the  rule  of  rational  conduct, 
seems  an  utterly  inadequate  guide.  It  aims  at  an  end  to  which 
it  is  incapable  of  attaining.  Under  these  circumstances,  the 
self-control  that  was  originally  invoked  to  enable  one  to  follow 
the  ends  held  by  judgment  to  be  most  permanent  comes  to 
serve  as  a  force  by  which  men  can  defy  the  distribution  of  favors 
that  the  chances  of  life  bring  about.  Men  become  cynical, 
and  seek  mastery  of  their  fortunes  by  the  negative  method  of 
caring  only  for  what  they  can  be  sure  to  get.  Or,  with  the 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  509 

Stoic,  they  exalt  self-control  into  a  self-sufficient  ideal,  and 
declare  that  "virtue  is  its  own  reward."  The  notion  of  a  duty 
entirely  disconnected  either  with  the  fortunes  of  one's  self  or 
of  his  family  or  state  makes  its  appearance,  and  man  comes  to 
despise  the  utilities  as  calling  the  interest  away  from  that  which 
is  truly  good. 

The  ethical  philosophies  of  the  later  days  of  classical  civili-  Ethics  be- 
zation  are  all  somewhat  affected  by  the  feeling  that  the  most 
praiseworthy  course  of  conduct  lies  in  a  certain  indifference 
to  worldly  success.  If  the  Epicurean  admonished  man  to  seek 
happiness,  he  was  certain  that  this  end  could  best  be  attained 
by  such  culture  of  character  as  makes  one  indifferent  to  those 
phases  of  human  fortune  which  he  may  be  unable  to  control. 
To  him  and  to  the  Skeptic,  as  well  as  to  the  Stoic,  the  ideal 
was  the  untroubled  life,  the  life  at  peace  with  itself,  and  con- 
tent with  whatever  lot  may  befall.  Such  an  attitude  is  cer- 
tainly not  utilitarian.  At  most,  it  merely  tolerates  the  prac- 
tical, finding  in  the  ideal  of  reason  which  regards  not  specific 
consequences  the  supreme  law  of  conduct.  Man  orders  his  own 
life  to  secure  his  own  contentment,  whether  with  the  Epicurean 
he  gets  what  he  can  and  cares  not  for  the  rest,  or  with  the  Stoic 
he  values  only  the  ideal  of  duty,  despising  the  dispensations  of 
fortune  when  these  do  not  conform  to  justice. 

When  the  human  mind  in  its  reflections  reaches  the  religious  Academic 
devotion  of  a  Job,  or  the  speculative  zeal  of  the  Platonic  ideal- 
ism,  or  the  lofty  self-sufficiency  of  the  Stoic  conception  of  virtue, 
it  is  apt  to  look  with  suspicion  upon  any  attempt  to  harness 
the  truth  in  the  service  of  any  alien  master.  It  is  felt  that  to 
serve  God  for  a  reward  is  not  genuine  piety.  He  who  is  con- 
tinually seeking  the  application  of  truth  to  practice  is  set  down 
as  not  caring  for  the  truth,  but  only  for  what  he  can  get  out 
of  it.  If  a  lie  will  serve  him  better  than  the  truth,  it  is  supposed 
that  he  will  prefer  the  lie,  or,  at  any  rate,  that  he  will  not  care 


510 


Principles  of  Education 


to  question  any  belief  which  is  useful  for  his  ends.  No  man 
can  get  repute  as  a  true  philosopher  who  teaches  for  pay,  for 
rank,  or  for  influence.  Such  an  one  will  always  be  credited 
with  "making  the  worse  appear  the  better  reason,"  if  it  serves 
his  purposes  to  do  so.  True  religion  scorns  any  pious  offices 
that  smack  of  worldly  designs.  "  Render  unto  Caesar  the  things 
that  are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's." 
The  spiritual  and  the  temporal  are  sharply  separated.  The 
value  of  spiritual  well-doing  is  seen  to  lie  in  spiritual  better- 
ment. The  saints  find  their  reward  not  in  earthly  palaces, 
but  in  heavenly  mansions. 

Rise  of  war-  Thus  not  only  do  men  come  to  devote  themselves  to  the  holy, 
^ne  true>  and  the  right  without  regard  to  their  practical  uses, 
but  they  come  to  look  with  disfavor  upon  any  attempt  to  dabble 
in  the  practical.  Under  such  conditions,  the  "academic," 
that  which  pertains  to  the  culture  of  the  school,  but  does  not 
concern  itself  with  the  life  outside,  gains  a  prestige  that  threat- 
ens to  submerge  the  interest  in  the  utilitarian.  We  find  the 
natural  outcome  of  this  in  the  asceticism  and  mysticism  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  The  negations  of  celibacy,  seclusion, 
poverty,  and  self-inflicted  torment  were  the  natural  accompani- 
ments of  a  conception  of  life  that  found  the  only  noble  occupa- 
tion in  spiritual  contemplation,  and  the  only  worthy  ultimate 
goal  in  the  Beatific  Vision. 

In  its  beginnings  art,  like  religion  and  ethics,  was  ostensibly 
utilitarian.  Adornment  of  the  person  connects  itself  ordinarily 
with  a  primitive  symbolism,  indicating  honors,  status,  achieve- 
ments, etc.  The  ornamentation  of  weapons,  clothing,  baskets, 
dwellings  also  springs  largely,  if  not  wholly,  from  an  attempt 
to  express  significances  that  have  real  or  supposed  value. 
It  is  not  meant  to  deny  that  artistic  forms  are  pleasing  to  the 
primitive  man  apart  from  their  utility.  Indeed,  the  utility 
of  the  adornment  is  partly  due  to  its  aesthetic  attractiveness. 


utilitarian 


early  art. 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  511 

On  the  other  hand,  this  aesthetic  quality  is  often  due  merely 
to  the  conventional  association  of  the  artistic  product  with  a 
desirable  distinction  on  the  part  of  the  possessor.  The  mean- 
ings and  utilities  of  primitive  art  are  to  be  found  in  the  social 
ideals  of  the  people  to  which  it  appeals.  The  artist  sets  him- 
self to  express  or  symbolize  social  traditions  and  values,  and 
he  hopes  through  this  expression  to  gain  the  influence  or  pres- 
tige connected  with  these  values  for  himself  or  for  his  patron. 

But  primitive  art  does  not  find  its  sole  utility  in  glorifying  Social  utii- 
the  social  status  or  achievements  of  the  individual  or  class. 
It  connects  itself  with  play,  with  tribal  enterprises  and  with 
religion,  and  serves  the  same  utilities  as  they  do.  We  have 
already  discussed  how  play  and  religious  ceremonial1  tend  to 
become  associated,  because  both  help  to  socialize  men,  and 
because  the  form  of  each  has  no  special  aptitude  for  any  other 
clearly  defined  use.  The  form  of  play  may  be  what  we  choose, 
just  as  may  that  of  religious  ceremonial.  Neither  gods  nor 
circumstances  will  interfere  to  prevent  the  freedom  of  human 
taste  from  determining  these  forms,  as  long  as  they  are  not 
productive  of  positive  harm  to  the  individual  or  to  the  com- 
munity. Thus  aesthetic  taste  is  left  in  control  of  the  situation, 
and  play  and  religious  ceremonial  become  its  special  province. 
They  socialize  men,  and  art  helps  them  in  this  service  by  ena- 
bling their  forms  to  instill  most  effectively  the  social  ideals. 

As  yet,  however,  the  value  of  the  art  form  is  not  seen  to  rest 
upon  its  inherent  excellence  as  a  means  of  expression.  Orna- 
ments are  prized  for  the  distinction  that  they  give  their  wearers 
rather  than  as  works  of  art.  Religious  ceremonial  is  held 
sacred,  not  because  of  the  beauty  with  which  it  expresses  the 
religious  attitude,  but  because  it  is  regarded  as  acceptable  to 
the  gods,  and  hence  likely  to  win  their  favor.  The  growth  of 
art  into  wider  service  helps  it  to  gain  an  independence  of  these 

1  Compare  §45. 


Principles  of  Education 


Growth  of 
art  into  a 
special  vo- 
cation. 
Idealiza- 
tion of  ar- 
tistic ex- 
pression 


Art  becomes 
academic 


aims,  and  so  of  any  utilities.  Since  the  artist  deals  with  expres- 
sion, he  grows  to  be  a  fundamental  force  in  social  control. 
Wherever  man  would  influence  man,  art  can  teach  him  the 
most  effective  way.  The  artist  through  song  or  dance  or 
ceremonial  or  wild  festivity  rouses  the  emotions  and  dominates 
public  opinion  and  action.  He  serves  religion  to  make  it  mys- 
terious and  awful,  the  state  to  awaken  the  enthusiastic  support 
of  its  citizens,  the  interests  of  leaders  or  of  privileged  classes 
by  celebrating  their  heroic  deeds,  their  superior  gifts,  and  their 
bounty,  or  by  surrounding  them  with  the  trappings  and  the 
atmosphere  that  inspire  admiration,  reverence,  and  fear. 
When,  with  leisure,  social  intercourse  becomes  an  occupation 
for  a  select  class,  art  exerts  itself  to  give  this  intercourse  a  form 
so  captivating  that  it  justifies  idleness  and  saves  the  interest 
of  those  upon  whom  sloth  would  pall. 

Thus  the  creation  of  effective  forms  of  expression  becomes  a 
vocation.  The  artist  is  differentiated,  as  one  whose  specific 
task  is  to  fashion  the  beautiful.  At  first  an  inventor  of  expres- 
sions by  which  society  or  the  individual  can  exert  a  desired 
influence,  he  comes  to  be  one  whose  products  are  seen  to  have 
a  certain  perfection  in  themselves,  as  the  ideal  embodiments 
of  phases  of  human  experience.  He  ceases  to  be  a  servitor, 
and  becomes  a  master.  In  the  life  of  cultured  leisure  he  is 
the  high  priest,  for  he  can  make  expression  so  excellent  that 
it  seems  to  need  no  utility  to  warrant  its  existence.  Hence 
art  acquires  a  certain  sanctity.  It  becomes  the  perfect  reve- 
lation, and  whether  it  reveals  the  evil  or  the  good,  the  shams 
or  the  realities,  it  matters  not,  so  long  as  it  makes  its  portraits 
speak  their  meaning. 

In  this  manner  expression  comes  to  be  regarded  as  a  thing 
worth  while  for  its  own  sake.  That  which  at  first  existed  that 
it  might  convey  certain  meanings  came  to  be  regarded  as  val- 
uable apart  from  these  significances.  Not  that  art  can  get 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  513 

along  without  something  to  express,  but  that  for  it  the  supreme 
interest  is  expression,  and  that  any  one  whose  artistic  creations 
are  dominated  by  a  desire  to  influence  the  conduct  of  men  in 
certain  practical  ways  ceases  in  so  far  to  be  an  artist,  and  be- 
comes a  preacher,  a  reformer.  Always  the  ideal  of  the  artist 
is  to  keep  utilities  in  the  background.  The  Muses  cannot  be 
ordered  about  as  servants.  They  must  be  worshiped.  To 
the  true  artist  considerations  of  the  practical  effects  of  his 
work  upon  the  thought  and  conduct  of  men,  and  of  its  value 
as  a  source  of  income  or  prestige  to  himself,  are  alike  irrelevant 
and  corrupting.  No  extraneous  motives  should  be  suffered 
to  defile  the  pure  devotion  to  "art  for  art's  sake."  Thus  this 
field  of  human  endeavor  comes  to  range  itself  along  with  reli- 
gion and  philosophy,  science,  and  ethics  as  something  inde- 
pendent of  and,  in  a  sense,  apart  from  the  rest  of  life,  a  thing 
of  cults  and  schools,  academic  rather  than  practical. 

SECTION  56.     The  reaction  against  the  academic 

The  practical  man  of  affairs  has  usually  looked  upon  the  Worldly  re- 
devotion  of  the  schoolman  to  the  ideal  of  the  form  of  culture      contempt 
that  he  represents  with  covetous  interest,  with  fear,  or  with      for  the 
amused  toleration.     For,  first  of  all,  religion,  philosophy,  and 
art  have  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  human  mind,  and  their  whole- 
hearted devotees  command  a  respect  that  can  never  be  ac- 
corded to  a  worldly  man,  whose  motives  seem,  as  in  point  of 
fact  they  usually  are,  selfish.     Hence  the  support  of  the  school- 
man has  always  been  eagerly  sought  by  men  of  affairs.    If 
such  support  can  be  gained  without  discrediting  the  motives 
of  those  who  afford  it,  the  man  of  practice  gains  for  his  policies 
the  enormous  advantage  of  a  seeming  justification  by  men 
entirely   disinterested   and   by  principles   absolutely  general 
and  impartial.     The  evolution  of  academic  freedom,  while 


*     5I4  Principles  of  Education 

it  has  not  removed  the  desire  for  and  the  possibility  of  such 
support,  has  tended  to  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  arbitrary 
commands,  and  even,  to  some  extent,  that  of  diplomacy  or 
corrupting  influences. 

But  we  have  seen  that  academic  freedom  has  usually  meant 
in  its  beginnings  the  freedom  to  think,  act,  and  speak  as  mind, 
conscience,  or  taste  might  direct,  so  long  as  the  defenses  of  estab- 
lished order  are  not  assaulted.  In  this  limitation  the  practical 
world  shows  its  fear  of  the  schoolmen,  for  the  prestige  that  their 
supposed  disinterestedness  gives  them  makes  them  not  only 
valuable  supporters,  but  also  formidable  foes.  When,  however, 
they  are  rendered  innocuous  by  restrictions  that  prevent  them 
from  applying  their  theories  or  their  art  to  living  issues,  they 
are  very  naturally  tolerated  as  harmless  dreamers,  or,  perhaps, 
ridiculed  as  being  of  no  more  real  importance  tha  mounte- 
banks or  court  jesters. 

Tendency  of  Nevertheless,  academic  freedom  grows,  and  the  discoveries 
investiga-  °^  the  schoolmen  accumulate  until  they  constitute  a  founda- 
tions to  tion  for  revolutionary  effects.  Philosophy,  ethics,  and  science, 
tice  penned  behind  the  barriers  of  the  school,  gain  such  energy 

as  at  length  to  break  down  its  restrictions  and  to  rush  forth 
to  reconstruct  the  social  and  economic  conditions  of  men. 
Ethics  gradually  allies  itself  with  democracy  and  fights  its  way 
into  practice.     Invention,  hitherto  left  largely  to  accident,1 
discovers  in  the  researches  of  academic  science  ideas  the  appli- 
cation of  which  transforms  in  a  marvelous  way  industry  and 
the  material  resources  of  life.     These  achievements  gradually 
wean  science  away  from  its  distrust  of  the  practical,  and  it 
lends  itself  more  freely  to  the  service  of  the  utilities. 
Persistence         However,  the  prestige  of  pure  science  remains  proof  against 
tothTaca"  ^ot^  tne  ridicule  of  men  who  are  frankly  utilitarian  and  the 
demk         allurements  of  practical  success,  which  are  everywhere  inviting 
1  Compare  Bacon,  Advancement  of  Learning. 


The  Academic  and  tlte  Practical  515 

investigators  to  devote  themselves  to  that  which  pays.  So 
strong  is  human  interest  in  the  truth,  and  so  great  is  human 
admiration  for  its  disinterested  pursuit,  that  the  attitude  of 
devotion  to  the  academic  cannot  be  shaken  by  the  contempt 
of  some  or  by  the  bribery  of  others.  The  discovery  that  science 
can  be  utilized  creates  applied  science,  but  does  not  discredit 
pure  science.  There  are,  however,  tendencies  that  ultimately 
force  the  school  to  look  to  the  practical  exigencies  of  life  for 
guidance  in  both  its  teaching  and  its  research.  That  atten- 
tion to  the  practical,  which  could  not  be  compelled  by  extra- 
neous pressure,  is  coming  now  as  an  inner  necessity,  a  condition 
of  a  satisfactory  carrying  out  of  its  own  work  by  the  school 
itself.  The  movement  that  brings  about  this  resort  to  the 
utilities  consists  of  an  accumulation  of  learning,  and  the  rise 
of  a  struggle  for  existence  among  disciplines  and  cults. 

The  accumulation  of  learning  is  partly  a  cause  and  partly  Effects  of 
a  result  of  the  differentiation  of  the  learned  class.    When  this     dency^for 
learning  grows  so  ponderous  in  bulk  that  any  further  additions      learning  to 
threaten  the  preservation  of  what  has  gone  before,  three  alter-     iate 
native  lines  of  action  lie  open,  each  of  which  finds  abundant 
illustration  in  history,     (i)  The  school  may  become  conserva- 
tive and  refuse  to  permit  new  elements  of  culture  to  be  added 
to  what  it  already  teaches.     (2)  It  may  admit  new  material, 
and  provide  for  its  retention  alongside  of  the  old  by  a  resort 
to  specialization.     (3)  It  may  undertake  to  select  what  should 
survive,  subjecting  both  new  and  old  culture  to  tests  which 
eliminate  some  materials  and  permit  others  to  remain. 

(i)  The  school  in  its  earlier  history  is  conservative  not  only  d)  Conserv- 
because  society  compels  it  to  be  so,  but  also  because  of  natural      ^ 
inclination   and   self-interest.     As   disciple   succeeds   creator,      new 
and  scholarship  and  commentary  take  the  place  of  independent 
thought  and  original  productiveness,  the  admiration  of  the 
master  creates  a  fear  that  further  originality  will  be  purchased 


Principles  of  Education 


Attack  on 
this  atti- 
tude as 
selfish 


The  victory 
over  con- 
servatism 
and  the 
overpro- 
duction of 
culture 
material 


at  the  expense  of  a  loss  of  what  he  has  achieved.  Moreover, 
since  the  master's  work  gains  in  honor  as  the  generations  roll 
by,  discipleship  comes  to  have  a  prestige  that  cannot  be  secured 
by  originality,  nay,  was  not  enjoyed  by  the  master  himself 
in  his  own  lifetime.  Thus  conservatism  becomes  to  the  school- 
man the  part  of  prudence  as  well  as  of  reverence  for  the  glo- 
rious dead. 

This  conservatism  is,  of  course,  doomed  when  once  there 
arises  a  conflicting  and  more  advanced  group  of  ideas.  The 
progressive  tendency  enjoys  the  advantage  not  only  of  a  more 
forceful  appeal  to  reason,  but  also  of  the  weakness  of  its  adver- 
saries in  that  they  cannot  fail  ultimately  to  be  charged  with 
placing  personal  interest  above  truth.  Thus  that  prestige 
which  constitutes  the  original  advantage  of  the  conservative 
decays  and  proves  his  ultimate  undoing.  His  faith  ceases  to 
be  regarded  as  a  sacred  respect  for  the  truth,  and  is  held  to 
constitute  a  disguise  for  self-interest,  if  not  the  garb  of  a  hypo- 
crite. Thus  the  new  philosophy,  the  new  culture,  wins  its 
way.  But  it  brings  with  it  a  revolutionary  spirit,  a  tendency 
to  be  suspicious  of  traditional  belief  and  vested  right  that 
makes  it  in  turn  an  easier  prey  to  its  successor. 

But  the  advance  of  intellectual  life  does  not  consist  merely 
in  substituting  one  system  of  thought  or  culture  for  another. 
The  body  of  culture  material,  when  once  the  check  of  conserva- 
tism is  removed,  renews  its  growth.  The  historical  sense  de- 
mands the  preservation  of  the  antecedents  of  the  newer  teach- 
ings. The  classics  in  literature  and  philosophy  are  not  less 
honored  in  the  curriculum  because  of  the  introduction  of  new 
works  of  genius.  History  is  continually  presenting  a  broader 
field  and  fresh  material.  Even  science,  which  thinks  largely 
of  the  "up-to-date,"  does  not  lose  all  interest  in  the  past. 
Moreover,  without  reference  to  its  history  it  continually 
reaches  out  in  its  investigations,  and  piles  up  new  material 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  517 

which  clamors  for  admission  into  that  which  is  taught.     Thus 
the  curriculum  is  swamped. 

(2)  To  permit  the  school  to  handle  all  this  material  which  (j)  Rise  of 
the  breaking  down  of  its  conservatism  allows  a  hearing,  the      ^ializ*" 
method  of  specialization  appears.     Many  men,  many  minds. 
To  this  conception  of  culture  we  have  committed  ourselves. 
The  days  of  the  polymath  are  passed.     Each  must  choose  one 
phase  of  learning,  and  that  a  very  narrow  one,  if  he  would  hope 
to  exploit  therein  the  sum  of  human  achievement,  and  in  turn 
produce.     No  matter  how  peculiar  the  path  thus  trod,  there 
will  probably  be  some  to  follow,  some  to  whose  taste  this  sort 
of  scenery  will  appeal. 

In  order  to  permit  each  subject  to  make  its  appeal  to  the  The  elective 
judgment  and  the  taste  of  the  individual,  the  elective  system 


comes  to  prevail  in  the  school.  It  strives  to  offer  free  play  to  for 
the  forces  of  differentiation,  to  do  equal  justice  to  all  phases 
of  culture,  to  recognize  the  new  without  breaking  with  the  old, 
to  offer  equal  opportunity  to  each  to  develop  his  own  talents 
according  to  his  own  desires.  In  specialization  election  finds 
its  current  justification  and  reason  for  being.  It  may  be  said 
to  date  from  the  beginning  of  differentiation  of  types  of  school, 
although  it  is  commonly  associated  with  the  culmination  of 
such  differentiation  in  alternative  courses  and  subjects  within 
the  ame  school. 

(3)  But  while  the  ostensible  purpose  of  election  lies  in  the  (3)  Theeiim- 
desirability  of  specialization,  the  elective  system  of  modern 


times  has  had  another  motive  and  function.     It  has  served  as      material. 

.  ,  Election  as 

a  means  of  providing  for  a  struggle  for  existence  among  sub-     a  method 
jects.     The  result  of  this  struggle  is  the  elimination  of  some 
subjects,  because  they  fail  to  attract  a  sufficient  number  of     this 
students,  and  the  ranking  of  those  that  survive  according  to 
the  patronage  that  they  receive.    As  an  arrangement  to  permit 
specialization,  the  elective  system  makes  for  expansion  of  the 


518 


Principles  of  Education 


The  elective 
system  as 
an  appeal 
to  the  de- 
cision of 
patronage 


Apparent 
resort  to 
the  judg- 
ment of 
practice  or 
utility 


course  of  study  ;  as  a  scheme  for  providing  a  struggle  for  exist- 
ence among  subjects,,  it  furthers  the  work  of  selection  in  nar- 
rowing this  course. 

The  elective  system  does  not  mean  that  the  school  has  un- 
dertaken the  task  of  selecting  its  program  from  among  compet- 
ing materials.  On  the  contrary,  latitude  in  election  is  a  result 
of  the  unwillingness  of  the  school  to  choose,  and  of  an  attempt 
to  thrust  this  responsibility  upon  its  patrons.  This  unwilling- 
ness may  spring  from  the  spirit  of  commerce,  the  desire  to 
offer  the  widest  variety  of  stock,  and,  in  order  to  make  many 
sales,  to  persuade  each  customer  that  what  he  seems  to  fancy 
is  the  best.  Unfortunately,  the  subordination  of  the  school 
to  other  interests  in  society  has  only  too  often  reduced  it  to  the 
position  of  selling  education  according  to  popular  demand. 
A  more  creditable  motive  for  leaving  the  choice  among  studies 
to  the  individual  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  school  often  is  unable 
to  determine  beforehand  what  is  best.  The  various  subjects 
and  phases  of  subjects  that  crowd  upon  the  gate  of  the  curric- 
ulum all  have  plausible  reasons  for  demanding  entrance. 
Each  represents  some  part  of  the  truth.  Each  appeals  to 
that  academic  catholicity  of  appreciation  that  loves  the 
truth  for  truth's  sake  and  can  see  beauty  in  forms  that 
are  not  classic. 

Thus  the  multiplication  of  studies  and  of  cults  puts  the 
school  under  the  necessity  of  providing  a  means  of  determining 
their  relative  value.  Since  this  can  hardly  be  done  with  entire 
satisfaction  a  -priori,  the  elective  system  enters  in  as  a  sort  of 
application  of  the  trial  and  error  method  to  the  problem. 
The  judgment  of  the  event  is  invoked.  But  this  judgment 
is  that  of  practice.  The  academic,  unable  or  unwilling  to 
settle  the  strife  between  the  competing  forms  of  culture,  appeals 
to  the  test  of  practice  as  a  basis  for  the  appraisement  of  rela- 
tive values.  It  abandons  its  gospel  of  personal  culture,  and 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical 


519 


seeks  to  satisfy  the  demand  of  the  community.  It  becomes 
utilitarian. 

The  growth  of  the  spirit  of  applied  ethics  and  of  applied 
science  has  encouraged  and  sustained  the  school  in  its  resort 
to  the  arbitrament  of  the  practical.  But  in  spite  of  the  enthu- 
siasm which  the  positive  achievements  of  this  spirit,  whether 
in  social  organization  or  in  invention,  have  aroused,  it  is  the 
contention  of  this  discussion  that  the  academic  attitude  remains 
unshaken  until  the  struggle  among  its  own  products  compels 
a  resort  to  the  judgment  of  utility.  After  all,  utility,  conform- 
ity to  environment,  plays  here  its  invariable  and  characteristic 
role  of  the  selective  principle  that  determines  survival  among 
the  achievements  of  men.  To  paraphrase  the  proverb,  "man 
proposes,  but  the  environment  disposes."  The  realization  of 
this  fact  has  driven  us  into  a  practical  age,  has  submerged  the 
academic  in  the  utilitarian,  which  all  perceive  to  have,  in  a 
sense,  the  final  word.  We  are  "  pragmatic,"  even  in  our  philos- 
ophy. We  are  above  all  "up  to  date,"  which  means  that  we 
discard  everything  as  soon  as  we  suspect  that  it  may  not  work 
quite  as  well  as  something  else.  Indeed,  in  our  fear  of  being 
behind  the  times  we  frequently  cast  off  the  better  for  the  worse, 
and  in  our  rage  for  the  practical  we  lose  sight  of  those  very 
conditions  conformity  to  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  prac- 
ticality itself. 

Such  a  criticism  may  well  be  passed  upon  a  school  which 
fancies  that  through  the  elective  system  it  renders  itself  in 
the  highest  sense  of  the  term  practical.  For  it  assumes  that 
the  only  and  final  test  of  practicality  is  demand  for  its  wares 
on  the  part  of  the  public.  It  governs  its  instruction  as  a  mer- 
chant does  his  business,  keeping  sharply  in  mind  what  men 
want  rather  than  what  they  ought  to  have.  Indeed,  it  is 
assumed  that  what  men  desire  and  what  they  need  are  really 
one.  However,  even  the  business  man  has  learned  to  force 


The  school 
becomes 
practical 
primarily 
to  settle 
the  strife 
of  subjects 


Practicality 
not  ade- 
quately 
tested  by 
patronage 


520  Principles  of  Education 

trade,  to  create  demand,  to  induce  men  to  want  what  they 
did  not  dream  of  coveting  before  the  agent  or  the  advertise- 
ment or  the  fad  or  fashion  of  the  hour  convinced  them  of  the 
dire  distress  of  their  present  plight.  If  business  is  practical 
in  causing  men  to  want  to  buy  what  it  has  to  sell,  much  more 
should  education  feel  that  it  is  part  of  its  practical  service, 
after  it  has  done  its  best  to  discover  what  it  is  most  nearly 
certain  that  men  genuinely  need,  to  attempt  to  infuse  the 
young  with  an  eager  longing  for  these  ultimately  desirable 
things. 

Election  fails      The  elective  system  in  education  is  like  the  policy  of  laissez 
fa^re  m  government.     We  may  add  that,  just  as  laissez  faire 


or  inteiii-  fails  because,  when  the  government  takes  off  its  hands,  other 
forces  for  social  control  quite  as  irresistible  enter  in  to  assume 
the  abandoned  functions  and  to  manipulate  them  in  the  inter- 
ests of  individuals  or  of  classes,  so  the  elective  system  fails 
because  without  the  interference  of  the  school  an  impartial 
determination  of  the  relative  practical  value  of  subjects  is 
impossible.  Paradoxically,  to  be  under  a  "let  alone"  policy 
means  not  to  be  let  alone,  and  the  school,  like  the  state,  cannot 
avoid  the  responsibility  of  an  impartial  judgment  concerning 
the  deserts  of  competitors.  The  children  before  whom  the 
materials  of  culture  are  spread  have  as  yet  neither  taste  nor 
judgment  in  reference  to  most  of  them.  They  are,  therefore, 
really  victims  of  a  variety  of  influences  that  are  not  impartial 
but  partizan.  The  influence  of  parents,  thrown  on  the  side  of 
the  studies  with  which  they  are  familiar,  or  which  possess 
prestige  in  their  circles  of  society,  the  attitudes  of  fellow 
students,  who  are  governed,  in  part  at  least,  by  youthful  con- 
siderations, the  popularity  or  advertising  skill  of  instructors, 
—  these  are  but  a  few  of  the  many  forces  quite  as  effective  in 
determining  choice  as  is  the  fitness  of  the  work  for  the  individual 
making  the  election. 


Tke  Academic  and  the  Practical  521 

The  delegation  of  the  work  of  selection  to  the  judgment  of  The  elective 
the  event  is  both  wasteful  of  energy  and  pernicious  in  outcome.  ™u,  in 

It  is  wasteful,  because  the  trial  and  error  method  is  always  energy  and 
wasteful  as  compared  with  that  of  intelligent  learning.  Even  ^results8 
though  the  school  cannot  tell  beforehand  what  studies  should 
survive,  it  should  hold  itself  to  the  task  of  acquiring  such 
experience  as  will  at  the  earliest  available  date  make  possible 
a  definite  rational  decision.  Any  other  course  is  not  only  blind 
and  blundering  in  method,  but  imperfect  in  result.  Trial  and 
error  learning  does  not  of  necessity  get  the  best,  but  only  that 
which  works.  The  results  of  free  election  might  give  an  edu- 
cation that  would  keep  its  patrons  at  the  level  of  culture  which 
is  their  standard,  but  it  might  at  the  same  time  fail  by  a  great 
deal  of  giving  them  the  best  that  they  can  get.  Education  is 
an  agency  for  determining  tastes  and  ideals,  as  well  as  for  cater- 
ing to  those  of  the  mass  of  its  patrons. 

From  time  immemorial  the  school  has  striven  to  perform  The  school 
this  function.     Indeed,  as  an  academic  institution  its  solution     ^  |j£  "" 
of  the  problem  of  life  has  been  that  of  conquering  and  mold-      apostle  of 
ing  the  instincts,  rather  than  that  of  showing  how  circumstances      ca^0enra|  u 
can  be  mastered.     Ethically  we  have  been  taught  humility      value3 
and  self-control,  to  live  for  ideals  which,  since  they  are  depend- 
ent upon    ourselves,   certainly  can    be    realized.     We    have 
been  taught  to  govern  our  wants  by  what  we  can  get,  "to  go 
to  the  mountain,"  instead  of  worrying  about  bringing  the 
mountain  to  ourselves.     However,  in  modern  times  the  greater 
efficiency  of  human  effort  has  created  so  enormous  an  interest 
in  the  practical  that  it  has  given  rise  to  a  sort  of  feeling  that  the 
ideal  can  take  care  of  itself.     The  problem  is  now  no  longer 
to  limit  our  wants  to  our  meager  powers,  but  rather  to  extend 
our  powers  so  that  we  can  gratify  all  our  wants. 

The  realization  of  this  result  is,  of  course,  not  only  imprac- 
ticable,  but  also  undesirable.     Since  our  wants  contradict 


522  Principles  of  Education 

The  school  each  other,  and  since  the  wants  of  one  often  conflict  with  those 

strfvefto  °f  others,  we  are  faced  with  the  problem  of  rationalizing  our 

determine  purposes.     We  must  discover  what  adjustment  of  instincts 

practicable  and  ideals  is  at  once  the  most  practicable  and  the  most  desir- 


andthe       ^jg  standard  for  the  guidance  of  conduct.    This  problem 

desirable  in  . 

life  the  school  cannot  shirk,  since  upon  it  falls  the  duty  of  deter- 

mining social  heredity,  of  divining  and  in  a  measure  marking 
out  the  course  of  progress.  It  must  undertake  the  task  of 
excluding  the  useless  and  the  undesirable  from  the  curriculum, 
and  it  must,  in  consequence,  develop  a  method  of  experimenta- 
tion and  a  principle  of  selection  by  which  progress  through  the 
survival  of  the  best  may  be  assured. 

Summary  The  endeavor  to  determine  the  work  of  the  school  by  refer- 

ence to  its  bearing  on  all  the  aims  of  life  may  be  characterized 
as  an  appeal  from  academic  values  to  those  of  utility.  Edu- 
cation by  this  course  loses  its  isolation  and  seeks  to  serve.  It 
aims  at  efficiency,  —  that  is,  at  that  which  in  the  struggle 
for  existence  must  survive  because  it  has  abiding  value.  In 
setting  up  certain  values  as  supreme  to  the  exclusion  of  others, 
education  became  academic.  However,  the  accumulation  of 
a  superabundance  of  material,  every  phase  of  which  could 
justify  from  the  academic  point  of  view  its  place  in  the  curri- 
culum, created  a  problem  of  selection.  This  problem  could  be 
settled  only  by  an  appeal  to  the  practical.  The  laissez  faire 
method  of  securing  this  result  is  seen  in  the  rise  of  the  elective 
system.  This  method  is  faulty  in  that  survival  is  not  thereby 
determined  according  to  satisfactory  criteria.  The  standard 
of  survival  which  it  brings  to  bear  is  not  merely  the  power  of 
the  form  of  culture  to  make  men  efficient  in  realizing  admittedly 
valuable  results,  but  also  the  attitude  of  youths  toward  values 
that  are  as  yet  in  question.  Hence  a  free  elective  system 
leaves  its  subjects  to  stand  or  fall  largely  by  their  appeal  to 
unenlightened  caprice  in  regard  to  what  is  really  worth  while. 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  523 

The  school  is  in  duty  bound  to  replace  blind  by  intelligent 
selection,  whether  this  concerns  the  most  efficient  methods  of 
gaining  certain  desirable  results,  or  the  determination  of  results 
that  shall  be  regarded  as  desirable.  It  is  bound  to  take  an 
attitude  in  regard  to  the  ultimate  end  of  education,  because 
only  thus  can  it  gain  a  criterion  by  means  of  which  it  can  deter- 
mine the  relative  value  of  the  phases  of  culture  that  are  possible 
for  it  to  give. 

SECTION  57.    The  ultimate  end  of  education 

The  question  of  the  ultimate  end  of  education  is  that  of  the 
ultimate  aim  of  life.  This  fundamental  problem  of  ethics 
we  cannot  expect  even  dogmatically  to  exploit.  However, 
since  the  teacher  must  govern  his  work  by  some  conviction 
on  this  matter,  it  would  seem  necessary  for  a  theory  of  educa- 
tion to  suggest  the  method  by  which  educational  aims  can 
most  satisfactorily  be  defined,  and  to  indicate  the  leading  con- 
stituents in  the  educational  ideal. 

In  our  introductory  chapter  it  was  contended  that  the  con-  utflity  as 
ception  of  utility  is  the  only  criterion  by  which  the  school  is     ^ 
able  to  determine  among  competing  lines  of  study  those  which      ideal 
should  prevail.     On  the  other  hand,  it  was  suggested  that  util- 
ity is  itself  an  empty  conception  unless  it  gets  content  from 
those  ideals  of  personal  culture  which  it  is  the  province  of  the 
useful  to  serve.     We  may  take  the  ground  that  the  curriculum 
must  prepare  for  efficient  living,  yet  it  is  evident  that  this  does 
not  relieve  us  from  the  necessity  of  discussing  what  sort  of  a 
life  one  who  may  justly  be  called  efficient  lives.     Efficiency  in 
life  is  an  ideal  quality.     It  is,  perhaps,  self-preservation  ;  but 
self-preservation  is  with  humanity  dependent  on  conformity 
to  conditions  which  human  beings  regard  as  standards  of  legit- 
imate, appropriate,  or  ideal  conduct.     The  appeal  to  practice 


524 


Principles  of  Education 


The  estab- 
lished ideal 
as  the  con- 
dition to 
which 
progress 
must  con- 
form 


Internal  ori- 
gin of  the 
positive 
factors  in 
evolution. 


is  essentially  a  falling  back  upon  the  general  verdict  of  human- 
ity in  regard  to  relative  values  among  various  ideals  of  life. 

In  the  last  section  the  view  that  the  school  should  leave  to 
the  community  the  task  of  determining  the  curriculum  by 
simply  giving  or  withholding  its  patronage  from  this  or  that 
course  which  the  school  offers  was  opposed.  It  was  maintained 
that  the  school  should  endeavor  to  rationalize  the  various  aims 
of  life,  that  it  should  study  these  as  they  appear  in  action 
both  historically  and  to-day,  and  that  its  appeal  to  practice 
should  not  be  a  blind  reliance  upon  the  popular  verdict  of  the 
hour,  but  rather  a  rational  determination  of  the  experience  of 
the  ages.  In  this  universal  experience  all  the  academic  ideals 
will  be  seen  to  play  their  part,  struggling  for  existence,  deter- 
mining and  being  determined.  For,  once  accepted  by  mankind, 
an  ideal  of  life  becomes  a  condition  of  which  all  other  ideals  are 
compelled  to  take  account.  The  practical  of  to-day  is  the  net 
outcome  of  the  progress  of  humanity  in  reference  to  the  con- 
struction and  determination  of  its  ideal. 

It  is  important  to  note  the  agreement  of  this  point  of  view 
with  the  general  notions  of  evolution  and  development  which 
have  been  adopted  and  defended  in  our  earlier  discussions. 
The  formula  that  sums  up  these  processes  is  that  of  variation 
and  selection.  The  variation  comes  from  within,  the  product 
of  unknown  forces  ;  the  selection  is  brought  to  bear  from  with- 
out, from  the  environment,  from  the  conditions  of  life.  The 
conditions  of  life  do  not  explain  life,  nor  any  one  of  its  functions. 
They  merely  constitute  that  to  which  life  or  any  one  of  its 
functions  must  conform  in  order  to  remain.  No  variation  that 
is  not  practical  can  survive. 

The  positive  element  in  development  and  evolution  comes 
from  within.  The  external  is  merely  negative,  selective. 
Selection  does  not  account  for  life,  for  power  of  movement, 
for  sensitivity,  for  cognition,  nor  for  morality.  Yet  all 


The  Academic  and  t/ie  Practical  525 

these  may  be  said  to  have  established  the  relative  importance 

they  hold   in    the    scheme  of  evolution    because   they  con-     The  func- 

formed  to   the  forces   that  determine  survival.       The  power 

vivc  be- 

of    movement    survives     because    it    enables    its   possessor     cause  of 
to  avoid  unfavorable  and  to  seek  favorable   environments.      ityai 
Pleasure  and  pain  prove  their  right  to  exist  by  enabling  read- 
justment by  the  method  of  trial  and  error.     Cognition  is  fa- 
vored by  selection  because  it  makes  possible  ideational  read- 
justment, through  which  we  avoid  the  loss  of  life  or  of  vital 
energy  incidental  to  cruder  forms  of  learning.     Morality,  too, 
finds  its  title  to  permanence  in  that  it  furthers  that  most 
helpful  of  agencies,  cooperation. 

But  while  it  is  plain  that  utility  constitutes  the  title  of  these  The  higher 
functions  to  survival,  it  can  scarcely  be  urged  that  it  is  the  ethically5 
reason  for  their  existence.  For  this  would  imply  that  we  feel  more  vai- 
and  think,  hate  and  love,  and  admire  the  beautiful  in  order  than  the 
that  we  may  live.  Ethically  it  would  seem  that  the  truth  is 
the  exact  opposite ;  that  we  live  hi  order  that  we  may  enjoy 
and  suffer  and  strive  to  make  life  more  pleasant,  more  beauti- 
ful, more  intelligent  both  for  ourselves  and  for  others.  If 
life  were  the  valuable  thing,  and  all  other  functions  were  worth 
while  merely  as  contributory  to  it,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to 
part  with  these  other  functions,  provided  we  could  live  just  as 
well  without  them.  Yet  who  would  be  willing  to  vegetate  as 
the  plant  does,  if  thereby  he  were  assured  a  life  as  long  as  that 
of  the  sequoia  I  Not  only  would  man  regard  life  on  such  terms 
as  a  useless  affair,  but  he  ranges  his  functions  on  a  scale  of 
valuation  according  to  which  the  latest  to  appear  are,  as  a 
rule,  rated  as  the  most  worthy  of  honor.  Thus  he  would  be 
unwilling  to  exchange  the  higher  intellectual  and  moral  life, 
even  though  it  might  involve  much  unhappiness,  for  the  ex- 
istence of  a  hog  with  every  assurance  that  the  wants  of  his 
brutish  nature  would  be  supplied. 


526  Principles  of  Education 

From  the  point  of  view  of  mere  utility,  we  are  conscious  in 
order  to  live.  From  the  point  of  view  of  ethics,  we  live  in 
order  that  we  may  be  conscious.  In  the  long  run  the  standard 
of  ethics  determines  the  higher  utility.  The  meaning  of  evo- 
lution is  to  be  found  in  its  products,  not  in  its  beginnings,  in 
final  rather  than  in  efficient  causes.  Cognition  and  morality 
cannot,  it  is  true,  fail  to  conform  to  the  conditions  of  life, 
for  if  they  did  so  fail  they  would  promptly  disappear,  together 
with  the  life  that  they  have  failed  to  protect.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  preservation  of  life  on  terms  that  are  hostile  to  the 
primacy  among  its  interests  of  cognition  and  morality  is  repug- 
nant to  the  better  judgment  of  man.  We  can  and  do  raise  the 
question,  "is  life  worth  living,"  -  a  question  which  on  the 
hypothesis  that  life  itself  is  the  supremely  valuable  thing  be- 
comes impossible  and  ridiculous. 

We  have  already  emphasized  the  fact  that  the  higher  func- 
tions bring  with  them  new  needs.     When  they  have  proved 
their  right  to  survive  by  their  utility,  they  incorporate,  as  it 
were,  their  own  ideals  into  the  conditions  of  successful  living. 
To  the  intelligent  being  life  is  not  enough,  he  must  have  insight 
as  well.     Our  environments  are  not  merely  the  physical  con- 
ditions by  which  we  are  surrounded,  but  they  are  the  entire 
past  of  the  race,  with  all  its  progress  and  achievement.     To 
serve  the  total  established  aim  of  humanity  is  the  higher  util- 
The  practical  ity,  and  nothing  short  of  this  can  be  regarded  as  genuine  effi- 
r  th™06    ciency-     It  follows  that  the  essence  of  the  practical  is  to  serve 
standard-     the   academic,  —  the   accepted,    the   standardized   academic, 
demic03      the  academic  which  is  the  fusion  of  all  genuine  recognized 
ideals  of  human  life,  which  has  been  winnowed  by  selection 
and  found  a  permanent  good.     The  higher  utilities  of  life 
Constant  re-    are  subject  to  a  process  of  reconstruction.     Each  new  product 
^oT^fThis  of  evolution  must  submit  itself  to  the  test  of  survival,  which  is 
standard      the  test  of  service.     It  must  help  to  foster  established  aims. 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  527 

But  when  it  has  once  justified  itself,  it  becomes  part  of  the 
established  order  to  which  the  new  competitor  for  recognition 
must  submit  its  fate. 

We  have  spoken  of  mere  utility  as  that  which  makes  for  the  Seif-reaii- 
mere  preservation  of  life.  The  higher  utility  means  that  which 
serves  those  interests  that  make  life  worth  living.  It  adapts  utility 
us  to  the  standard  of  life  which  is  a  rationalized  expression  of 
the  experience  of  the  past.  There  may  be  said  to  be  another, 
a  highest  utility,  the  essence  of  which  consists  in  fostering  the 
improvement  of  standards.  To  this  highest  utility  the  aim 
of  life  is  not  self-preservation  or  preservation  according  to 
existing  standards,  but  rather  self-realization.  It  looks  upon 
human  nature  as  a  thing  of  exhaustless  potentialities,  and  re- 
gards the  exploitation  of  these  unrevealed  powers  as  the  high- 
est service  to  man. 

Defined  as  the  service  of  self-realization,  this  highest  utility  seif-rcaiiza 
may  seem  not  like  a  practical,  but  rather  like  a  purely  ideal 
value.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  evident  that  the  ideal  values 
become  actual,  and  so  are  genuinely  realized,  only  by  conform- 
ing to  and  serving  life  as  it  is.  The  highest  utility  does  not 
consist  in  creating  new  values  which  are  worth  while  for  their 
own  sake.  Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  that  only  is  worth 
while  which  serves  other  ends  outside  itself.  Nothing  in  iso- 
lation can  justify  its  right  to  be.  Academic  seclusion  does  not 
save  the  ideal,  but  rather  destroys  it.  The  knowledge  that 
does  not  help  us  to  gain  some  other  good  thing,  —  wealth, 
health,  beauty,  morality,  more  knowledge,  —  is  by  that  fact 
rendered  of  no  value  and  not  worth  the  keeping.  Herein  lies 
the  necessity  of  an  appeal  to  practice,  to  established  values. 
Self-realization  is  an  utility  because  that  which  the  self  creates 
out  of  its  own  resources  must  serve  the  general  good  before  it  is 
entitled  to  rank  among  the  realities  of  life.  Realization  is 
putting  into  practice,  bringing  into  conformity  with  things 


528  Principles  of  Education 

as  they  are,  and  the  service  of  self-realization  is  a  genuine  util- 
ity because  it  looks  to  a  future  that  betters  the  present  only 
after  conforming  to  its  conditions. 

The  aim  of  The  method  by  which  the  aim  of  the  school  is  to  be  discovered 
foundry1  '^i  therefore,  that  of  rationalizing  human  practice  up  to  date, 
rational-  and  thereby  arriving  at  what  may  be  called  the  standard  valu- 

ing human          .  r  IT          -K.T  •          r  ••  i  i      • 

practice  ation  of  life.  No  way  exists  for  appraising  the  relative  value 
of  various  activities  except  by  determining  their  relation  to  the 
total  aim  of  life  as  revealed  in  experience.  And,  it  may  be 
added,  since  experience  is  never  finished,  we  can  never  say  that 
all  the  things  for  which  practice  exists  are  definitely  known. 
The  history  of  evolution  is  a  continuous  revelation  of  new  phases 
of  that  which  seems  indispensable  to  a  perfectly  satisfactory 
universe.  Nevertheless,  within  reasonable  limits  it  is  perfectly 
feasible  to  approximate  to  a  view  as  to  what  is  worth  while  that 
conforms  to  the  experience  of  the  vast  majority  of  mankind. 
Constituents  The  constituents  of  the  aim  of  education  include  the  lower 

" 


cationai  "    Clitics  °f    mere   self-preservation,  —  health,   mastery  of   a 
aim  vocation,  ability  to  get  on  in  society.     The  standard  in  ref- 

erence to  each  of  these  varies.  The  health  requirements  of 
one  age  are  not  so  exacting  as  they  may  be  in  the  next,  and  the 
same  is  true  of  vocational  skill  or  social  adaptability.  Educa- 
tion is  bound  to  consult  the  existing  standards  and  to  strive  to 
better  them  where  this  seems  desirable  in  view  of  the  other  aims 
of  life.  The  aim  of  the  school  includes  the  higher  utilities, 
the  ideal  values  of  life,  knowledge,  beauty,  and  morality. 
These  values  are,  as  we  have  seen,  grounded  in  instinct.  Curi- 
osity leads  on  to  the  ideal  of  the  intellect,  the  parental  and 
social  instincts  lead,  when  rationalized,  toward  the  ideal  of 
duty,  and  there  are  doubtless  instinctive  preferences  of  taste 
which  are  the  foundation  of  intelligent  aesthetic  appreciation. 
Since  the  ideal  is  in  each  case  the  instinct  rationalized,  we  may 
speak  of  it  as  the  ideal  of  the  reason. 


The  Academic  and  tJie  Practical  529 

It  is  part  of  the  function  of  the  school  to  serve  and  to  foster  The  school 
the  ideals  of  the  reason.     This  academic  task  is  its  traditional     ^rout£e  fos" 
duty,  and  there  need  be  no  fear  that  it  will  lag  in  an  office  so      Meal*  of 
much  to  its  liking.     Nevertheless,  since  the  present  tendency 
is  so  markedly  utilitarian,  it  is  important  that  the  school  should 
realize  clearly  the  place  of  these  ideals  of  the  reason  in  the 
higher  utilities  of  life  to-day.    A  society  that  talks  persistently 
about  utility  without  analyzing  its  meaning  and  constituent 
elements  is  apt  to  test  results  more  by  the  lower  utilities  than 
the  higher  ones.     Hence,  to  speak  of  the  school  as  utilitarian 
means  to  many  men  to  degrade  it  from  its  ancient  dignity,  and 
to  make  of  it  a  mere  instrument  of  a  materialistic  society. 

But  the  ideals  of  the  reason  have  become  so  thoroughly  incor-  utility  of 
porated  into  the  demands  of  life  that  the  school  cannot  be      "f"?™  *° 

.  .        .  ,  the  ideals 

utilitarian  save  through  continually  cultivating  them.  From  oftherea- 
time  immemorial  they  have  constituted  the  test  by  which 
society  has  awarded  its  highest  honors,  if  not  its  most  lavish 
material  rewards.  Society  recognizes  in  the  ideals  of  reason  its 
salvation  against  the  anarchic  effects  of  intelligence  when  this 
works  in  the  service  of  self-interest,  and  against  the  emptiness 
of  the  life  that  makes  the  amassing  of  wealth  its  sole  pursuit. 
A  school  that  would  serve  merely  the  lower  utilities  would  be 
regarded  by  society  as  failing  in  its  service,  as  neglecting  the 
things  that  are  most  useful.  Indeed,  in  our  civilization  so 
ingrained  is  the  demand  for  ideal  values,  that  we  tend  to  ideal- 
ize the  practical  and  to  convert  the  very  gospel  of  utility  into 
an  academic  value,  —  that  is,  one  worth  while  for  its  own  sake. 
Hence  we  become  wedded  to  a  belief  in  the  supreme  excel- 
lence of  the  power  to  get  results  without  reference  to  the  value 
that  these  results  may  have  for  the  other  ends  of  life. 

In  idealizing  the  practical,  however,  society  and  the  school 
are  unquestionably  opening  an  opportunity  for  all  the  values 
of  life  to  assert  themselves  and  to  become  to  a  greater  degree 

2  M 


530 


Principles  of  Education 


The  practical 
world  as 
the  meet- 
ing place  of 
ideal  val- 
ues.    Con- 
sequent 
process  of 
selection 


Practicabil- 
ity and  de- 
sirability 
interde- 
pendent in 
the  estab- 
lishment 
of  relative 
values 


than  ever  before  effective  in  human  practice.  The  world  of 
activity,  of  achievement,  is  the  meeting  place  of  men  and  of 
ideas.  In  that  world,  all  things  are  put  to  work,  are  made 
means  to  the  accomplishment  of  ends.  It  is  a  good  thing  for 
the  sense  of  the  need  of  getting  things  done  to  be  emphasized, 
even  overemphasized.  The  world  is  ready  for  a  practical  age, 
in  which  the  lumber  of  the  schools  shall  be  dragged  out  and 
either  be  put  to  work  as  material  for  a  new  construction  of 
society  and  industry,  or,  if  such  uses  cannot  be  found,  be 
definitely  set  aside.  The  idealizing  of  the  practical  means  the 
realizing  of  the  ideal,  and  this  realization  means  that  vigorous 
selection  of  the  products  of  human  power  without  which  a  con- 
sistent, unified,  forward  movement  in  human  affairs  is  impossible. 
The  problem  of  the  school  may  be  stated  in  slightly  different 
phraseology  as  that  of  discovering  for  its  pupils  that  which  is 
desirable  and  practicable  for  them  to  study  and  to  become. 
The  practicable  is  that  which  agrees  with  the  conditions  of 
life.  However,  these  conditions  are  largely  of  human  creation, 
and  can  very  extensively  be  changed  by  the  evolution  of  new 
attitudes,  new  ideals,  new  desires  among  men.  Hence,  the 
problem  of  determining  the  practicable  is  very  largely  a  prob- 
lem that  should  take  account  of  the  possibility  of  modifying  the 
conception  of  the  desirable  entertained  by  humanity.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  desirable  is  subject  to  the  test  of  practice. 
That  which  will  not  work  must  perforce  cease  to  be  desired. 
Practicability  is  continually  asserting  itself  to  destroy  some 
ideals,  to  reduce  the  importance  of  others,  and  to  enhance  the 
valuation  of  a  few  that  prove  most  fundamental  and  abiding. 
Among  the  desirable  things  the  love  of  truth,  of  beauty,  and  of 
righteousness  are  most  valuable  because  the  knowledge,  the 
art,  and  the  conduct  to  which  they  lead  are  not  only  worth 
while  for  their  own  sake,  but  because  they  furnish,  on  the 
whole,  the  greatest  aid  to  all  the  other  desirable  ends  of  life. 


The  Academic  and  the  Practical  531 

So  far  as  the  school  is  concerned,  it  is  evident  that  it  has  Tendency  of 
thought  more  of  the  desirable  than  it  has  of  the  practicable. 
This  is  very  probably  due  quite  as  much  to  the  tendency  to     to  forget 
follow  the  line  of  least  resistance  in  pupils  as  it  is  to  the  aca-     J^P" 
demic  self-absorption  of  the  masters.    It  is  easy  to  graft  upon  the 
instincts  of  the  child  the  ideals  of  the  reason.     It  is  curious  how 
singular  a  lack  of  the  sense  of  the  utility  of  knowledge  pupils 
may  possess.     From  actual  tests  I  am  led  to  believe  that  at 
least  the  majority  of  an  average  class  of  college  students  will 
reply  to  the  question  "What  is  the  practical  value  of  knowl- 
edge?" by  saying  in  effect,  "To  get  more  knowledge."    This 
answer  may  be  in  part  the  result  of  their  training,  but  it  seems 
also  to  indicate  that  their  sense  of  utility  interposes  few  ob- 
stacles to  the  domination  of  the  academic  ideal  of  knowledge. 

It  is  probable  that  the  motive  of  utility  needs  to  be  empha-  Need  of  cui- 
sized  hi  the  schools,  not  so  much  because  it  is  necessary  in  order 
to  get  interest  or  effective  work,  but  rather  because  without 
such  emphasis  the  child  fails  to  become  sufficiently  practical. 
What  we  need  is  less  dependence  on  the  ideals  of  the  reason, 
particularly  the  intellectual  ideal,  and  more  upon  the  judg- 
ment of  relative  values.  The  age  of  independence  in  child 
development  should  find  him  not  only  inspired  by  academic 
ideals,  but  also  sobered  and  made  critical  by  a  healthy  utilita- 
rianism. The  school  should  be  practical  and  teach  the  art 
of  being  practical.  It  should  be  on  the  alert  to  determine  by 
every  means  in  its  power  the  usefulness  of  its  work  in  promot- 
ing the  total  welfare  of  men.  Such  an  attitude  cannot  fail 
to  react  upon  its  pupils,  filling  them  with  a  critical  spirit  in 
regard  to  relative  values. 

It  is  hi  the  upper  departments  of  our  educational  system, 
in  secondary  and  collegiate  education,  that  the  divorce  between 
the  academic  and  the  practical  is  most  in  evidence  and  does 
most  harm.  College  students  in  general  are  apt  to  fall  into 


532  Principles  of  Education 

Bad  effect       one  of  two  classes.     The  first  of  these  consists  of  those  who 
become  absorbed  in  one  or  several  phases  of  the  higher  culture. 


the  aca-       They  wish  to  devote  their  lives  to  this.     In  order  to  do  so  they 
titude  on     usually  take  up  the  profession  of  teaching,  in  the  hope  that  they 


(1)  the  stu-  mav  thug  ke  ab}e  j-o  ijve  more  an(j  more  exclusively  with  their 

dent  who  •  J 

readily  as-  beloved  specialty.  Such  students,  however,  are  frequently 
sumesit;  jjj  adapted  to  teaching.  They  are  simply  enamored  of  a 
phase  of  learning,  and  have  paid  no  attention  to  the  practical 
value  of  this  in  the  culture  of  men,  or  to  the  correlative  problem 
of  teaching  it.  In  these  matters  they  are  not  interested  ; 
perhaps  cannot  become  interested.  Exclusive  devotion  to 
one  kind  of  truth  has  blinded  them  to  all  other  phases  of  life, 
in  a  word,  to  the  utilities.  Certain  interests  that  are  normal 
and  necessary  have  been  atrophied,  while  all  the  nutrition  has 
fed  the  one  passion,  which,  alas  !  all  too  frequently  renders  its 
possessor  inefficient  in  the  economic  struggle  for  existence. 

(2)  the  stu-       The  second  class  of  students  are  the  avowed  utilitarians. 

0  They  are  in  college  for  the  sake  of  the  business  value  of  what 
they  learn,  or  rather,  since  this  cannot  always  be  clearly  dem- 
onstrated by  the  professor  or  appreciated  by  the  student,  for 
the  social  or  professional  value  of  the  degree.  Such  students 
are,  according  to  our  criterion,  not  less  impractical  than  their 
idealistic  brethren.  For  while  they  are  not  losing  sight  of  the 
problem  of  making  a  living,  they  arS  oblivious  to  the  higher 
utility  of  "making  a  life."  Moreover,  nothing  can  be  more 
impractical  than  to  do  useless  things  just  because  it  is  the 
fashion. 

The  college  that  exalts  the  academic  ideal  at  the  expense 
of  the  ideal  of  efficiency  harms  both  classes  of  students.  The 
idealist  may  blame  it  for  the  ineptitude  of  many  a  life  out  of 
which  a  normal  utilitarianism  has  been  educated.  The  utili- 
tarian may  justly  complain  that,  since  no  attempt  was  made 
to  square  the  work  he  was  called  upon  to  do  with  a  sense  of 


The  Academic  and  tlie  Practical  533 

values  which  is  after  all  healthy,  he  has  been  led  into  idleness, 
indifference,  and  shams. 

We  may  conclude  that  the  ultimate  end  of  education  is  that  Summary 
of  adjusting  the  young  to  the  realities  of  life.  Since  these 
realities  are  with  man  largely  established  idealities,  the  utili- 
tarianism of  the  school  resolves  itself  to  a  considerable  extent 
into  a  service  of  those  aims  which  have  constituted  the  academic 
motives  of  schoolmen.  On  the  other  hand,  since  no  aim  is 
permitted  to  remain  in  isolation,  no  knowledge,  art,  or  moral 
practice  will  be  suffered  to  survive  in  social  heredity  unless  it 
proves  its  right  to  exist  by  its  use,  that  is,  by  its  service  to  other 
aims  than  itself.  Thereby  alone  can  its  relative  value  be 
determined.  The  method  of  determining  these  relative  values 
must  be  that  of  rationalizing  human  practice  up  to  date. 
Perhaps,  also,  the  school  may  be  able  to  forecast  new  ideals  of 
human  nature,  and  by  promoting  their  spread  aid  in  the  prog- 
ress of  humanity  toward  the  realization  of  its  potentialities  for 
growth.  At  any  rate,  the  educational  institution  is  bound  to 
lead  the  way  in  philosophic  and  scientific  investigation,  in  the 
progressive  interpretation  of  the  moral  law,  and  eventually  in 
the  advance  in  artistic  taste. 

The  constituents  of  the  educational  ideal  include  such  funda- 
mental conditions  of  self-preservation  as  health,  vocational 
efficiency,  and  conformity  to  the  social  order.  These  are  factors 
of  the  simplest  phase  of  utility.  The  educational  aim  concerns 
the  service  of  the  ideals  of  the  reason,  knowledge,  artistic  taste, 
virtue.  These  are  the  higher  utilities,  because  in  man's  scale 
of  valuation  they  are  held  as  of  greater  worth.  The  highest 
utility  is  the  service  of  self-realization,  and  in  the  control  of 
this  the  school  may  be  assigned  a  voice.  But  everywhere  it 
must  keep  close  to  practice,  to  relative  values,  to  the  gospel  of 
achievement.  It  must  be  on  the  alert  to  the  verdict  of  practice 
upon  its  work.  It  must  combine  a  wise  conservatism  with 


534  Principles  of  Education 

willingness  ruthlessly  to  cut  loose  any  form  of  culture  the  serv- 
ice of  which  has  fallen  below  that  which  its  presence  excludes 
from  the  curriculum.  Especially  should  the  school  cultivate 
the  spirit  of  critical  valuation  or  of  utilitarianism  among  its 
pupils,  for  only  through  this  can  they  achieve  the  highest 
service  both  for  themselves  and  for  the  society  in  which  they 
live. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

LIBERAL   AND   VOCATIONAL  EDUCATION 

SECTION  58.     The  evolution  of  liberal  education 

HISTORICALLY,  liberal  education  has  generally  meant,  as  Various 
the  term  indicates,  education  of  free  men,  or  aristocrats,  — 
and  so  education  for  leadership  and  leisure.  On  the  other  education 
hand,  vocational  education  has  meant  that  training  which  fits 
one  for  gaining  a  livelihood  through  economic  service  of  some 
sort,  —  a  species  of  culture  and  a  career  which  have  been 
traditionally  despised  by  the  upper  classes.  However,  the  term, 
"  liberal  education,"  has  been  used  very  loosely,  and  we  can 
distinguish  two  other  main  significances  that  it  has  possessed. 
According  to  the  first,  liberal  education  is  social  and  ethical 
culture,  whether  it  be  that  of  the  leader  or  of  the  follower. 
Professor  Laurie  *  defines  the  education  with  which  he  as  an 
historian  deals  to  be  "the  means  which  a  nation,  with  more 
or  less  consciousness,  takes  for  bringing  up  its  citizens  to  main- 
tain the  tradition  of  national  character,  and  for  promoting  the 
welfare  of  the  race  as  an  organized  ethical  community." 
Such  a  definition  excludes  the  vocational,  and  we  may  take 
it  as  one  large  vague  meaning  that  liberal  education  is  fre- 
quently thought  to  have.  The  third  meaning  is  that  of  broad 
as  contrasted  with  narrow  education.  Here  the  word  "lib- 
eral" is  used  in  the  common  signification  of  "generous." 

All  these  meanings  are  interrelated,  and  they  appear  in  phases 
of  the  evolution  of  that  education  which  can  to-day  most  ap- 

1  History  of  Pre-Christian  Education. 
535 


536 


Principles  of  Education 


Evolution  of 


propriately  be  called  liberal.  We  shall  offer  an  outline  of  that 
evolution,  which  will,  however,  consist  in  great  measure  of 
material  that  has  already  appeared  in  connection  with  earlier 
discussions.  The  special  problems  associated  with  the  dis- 
tinctions between  liberal  and  vocational  education  are  suffi- 
ciently important  to  warrant  the  assembling  here  of  whatever 
concerns  it,  even  at  the  risk  of  repetition. 

(1)  The  first  phase  in  the  evolution  of  liberal  education  is 
tne  development  out  of  general  ethical  culture  of  a  distinct 

leadership  type  suited  especially  for  training  in  leadership  because  of  the 
power  that  it  gives  in  social  control.  A  class  with  this  sort  of 
a  special  culture  appears  as  a  result  either  of  the  differentiation 
from  a  democratic  society  of  some  who  are  gifted  to  control, 
and  their  endeavor  to  perpetuate  their  power  in  their  children, 
or  of  the  conquest  of  a  race  inferior  in  ethical  qualities  and 
training  by  one  more  fortunate  in  these  respects.  The  position 
of  control  of  the  dominant  class  enables  it  to  develop  and  to 
perfect  a  system  of  training  in  morals,  manners,  ideals,  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature,  military  skill  and  intelligence,  religious 
belief  and  ceremonial,  statecraft,  and  the  like,  which  serves  to 
maintain  the  supremacy  of  their  caste.  Thus  we  have  the  edu- 
cation of  the  aristocrat  differentiated  from  that  baser  culture 
which  serves  only  the  lower  needs  of  life  and  is  supposed  to  be 
tolerable  only  by  those  who  are  servile  by  nature. 

(2)  Liberal  education  evolved  from  education  for  leadership 
jn£O  education  for  leisure.     The  governing  class  inevitably 
becomes  to  a  great  extent  a  leisure  class.     The  arts  of  life  which 
have  so  far  been  largely  of  utility  in  leadership  are  patronized 
because  they  contribute  to  amusement,  to  self-glorification, 
or  to  those  nobler  tastes  and  ideals  which  the  life  of  reason 
constructs  for  itself.     Not  only  does  the  aristocrat  become  a 
patron  of  education  for  leisure,  but  so  also  do  the  schoolmen, 
for  whether  philosophers,  or  priests,  or  artists,  whether  munifi- 


Expansion  of 
this  mto 

education 

for  leisure 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  537 

cently  patronized  by  the  nobility  or  left  in  neglect,  they  are, 
to  some  extent  at  least,  a  leisure  class.  Their  academic  cul- 
ture grows  out  of  and  remains  closely  associated  with  educa- 
tion for  leisure,  and  both  aristocrat  and  schoolmen  look  upon 
the  noble  enjoyment  of  leisure  as  equivalent  to  doing  that 
which  is  worth  while  for  its  own  sake. 

(3)  But  while  education  for  leadership  grows  into  education  Liberal  edu- 
f  or  leisure  with  its  academic  interests,  there  develops  later  on  a      ^^  to 
rift  between  them.     The  academic  interest  leads  to  ideas  which,      become 
since  they  are  not  produced  under  the  constraint  of  an  interest 

in  the  established  method  of  social  control,  often  run  counter 
to  the  desires  of  the  ruling  class.  Hence,  as  we  have  seen, 
schoolmen  are  restricted  to  academic  issues,  and  education 
for  leadership  remains  in  a  deathlike  conservatism.  Under 
these  circumstances  the  term  liberal  education  may  more 
appropriately  be  applied  to  the  education  of  the  school,  in  so  far 
as  this  possesses  genuine  freedom  and  power  of  growth. 

(4)  Nevertheless,  the  divorce  between  the  education  of  the  The  higher 
school  and  education   for    social    control  is  not  permanent. 


The  views  of  life  that  are  evolved  by  men  of  thought  inevitably      cpnstruc- 
react  upon  the  conduct  of  men  of  action,  and  the  school  which     methods  of 
fosters  thought,  since  after  all  it  is  in  and  of  the  world,  must      |£j 
eventually  make  its  ideas  known  and   felt.     This  happens 
even  though  both  thinkers  and  aristocrats  combine  to  keep 
the  disturbing  ideas  from  becoming  current,  cynically  condon- 
ing a  social  order  which  conscience  pronounces  unjust  and 
reason  unsound,  as  did  the  Illuminati  in  the  days  of  Louis  XIV. 
The  fearless  frankness  of  those  who  cannot  conceal  the  truth 
because  of  self-interest  combines  with  numberless  subtle  ways 
in  which  ideas  are  diffused,  until  at  last  the  suspicions  of  the 
submerged  mass  are  roused  to  join  the  forces  making  for  the 
reconstruction  of  a  social  order  that  the  better  judgment  of 
humanity  has  declared  unsound. 


538 


Principles  of  Education 


Rise  of  a  new 
democratic 
culture  for 
leadership 


Liberal  edu- 
cation  as 
prepara- 
tion for 
leadership 
in  any 
vocation 


When  academic  conceptions  begin  to  play  a  part  in  the  re- 
construction of  the  methods  of  social  control,  the  education  of 
the  school  becomes  again  a  part  of  the  preparation  for  leader- 
ship. In  the  democratic  political  conditions  that  now  appear, 
leadership  is  more  and  more  felt  to  be  a  service  which  those  of 
superior  ability  and  education  should  render  without  regard  to 
the  rank  in  society  from  which  they  have  sprung.  Leadership 
becomes  a  vocation  dependent  in  part  upon  the  proper  culture, 
rather  than  a  status  conferred  by  birth.  It  becomes  service 
for  pay,  rather  than  exploitation  by  those  who  through  conquest 
or  the  custom  that  sanctions  hereditary  right  are  enabled  to 
exact  what  they  want  without  reference  to  equivalent  return 
service. 

Thus  liberal  education  begins  and  ends  with  a  utility.  It 
begins  in  preparation  for  leadership,  not  as  a  profession  which 
can  get  pay  for  its  service,  but  rather  as  the  clever  art  of  a  class, 
by  means  of  which  it  retains  its  supremacy.  Later,  liberal 
education  evolves  into  education  for  leisure,  academic,  apart 
from  the  world  and  its  utilities.  Still  later,  it  gains  a  new 
utility,  as  the  preparation  for  leadership  in  a  democratic  so- 
ciety, where  such  activity  is  recognized  as  a  vocation. 

(5)  The  learning  of  the  school  does  not  confine  itself  to  the 
criticism  and  the  reconstruction  of  political  life,  but  it  also 
brings  about  the  exaltation  of  the  humble  vocations.  It 
takes  command  of  the  human  situation,  and  whatever  it  touches 
rises  in  importance  and  dignity.  As  a  result  of  the  body  of 
learning  that  their  practice  in  its  higher  phases  comes  to  involve, 
medicine,  teaching  in  all  grades  of  the  school,  engineering, 
trade,  industry,  art,  and  literature  become  professions. 

The  professional  man  may  be  denned  as  the  leader  in  a  vo- 
cation, one  whose  preparation  has  involved  so  much  material 
as  to  make  him  capable  of  understanding  and  taking  part 
in  the  highest  types  of  work  which  his  vocation  undertakes. 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  539 

To  do  this  he  must  have  a  mastery  of  the  scientific  foundation 
of  his  special  work.  He  must  have  a  liberal  preparation  for  it. 
Liberal  education  thus  becomes  education  for  leadership,  not 
merely  in  political  life,  but  in  any  other  activity.  As  politics 
becomes  a  profession,  so  all  other  vocations  gain  a  professional 
phase.  To  reach  the  professional  phase  of  any  vocation  a 
liberal  education  is  necessary.  The  leaders  of  society  come 
to  include  all  who  are  preeminent  in  any  profession  that  has 
been  vitalized  by  the  higher  thought.  The  political  leader 
could  in  the  past  without  ridicule  arrogate  to  himself  the  posi- 
tion of  leader  and  dictator  in  whatsoever  phase  of  thought  or 
action  he  chose.  To-day,  when  leadership  is  seen  to  depend 
on  professional  preparation,  such  an  attitude  is  regarded  as  the 
harmless  folly  of  those  to  whom  the  idea  of  "the  divine  right 
of  kings"  is  not  yet  obsolete. 

(6)  Liberal  education,  as  education  for  leadership  in  the  Liberal  edu- 
various  vocations,  is  much  or  broad  education.  It  gives  that  ^ 
knowledge  of  fundamental  principles  which  enables  a  treat-  readjust- 
ment of  the  new  situations  with  which  it  is  the  peculiar  task 
of  the  leader  to  cope.  It  is  education  for  readjustment,  ra- 
tional  education.  But  the  demand  for  readjustment  in  modern 
life  is  broader  than  the  vocation.  To  lead  in  any  vocation 
one  must  have  such  knowledge  as  enables  him  to  make  of  his 
own  specialty  not  only  an  indispensable  servant  to  society, 
but  also  an  independent  force  therein.  In  preparing  for  this 
general  leadership  in  social  life,  liberal  education  must  give 
a  training  in  the  fundamental  principles  of  social  cooperation, 
the  principles  that  underlie  the  life  in  which  the  vocation 
plays  only  a  part.  It  must  include  not  only  training  for 
leadership,  but  also  a  rationalized  form  of  that  social  and 
ethical  culture  out  of  which  training  in  leadership  originally 
sprang. 

The  steps  in  the  evolution  of  liberal  education  are,  then,  the  Summary 


540 


Principles  of  Education 


differentiation  of  culture  for  political  leadership  from  the  gen- 
eral social  and  ethical  culture  of  the  community  ;  the  develop- 
ment from  this  of  education  for  leisure  ;  the  separation  of 
academic  culture  from  that  for  social  control,  with  a  coincident 
advance  of  the  former  and  conservation  of  the  latter  ;  the 
reconstruction  of  social  and  political  life  through  the  applica- 
tion to  it  of  the  conceptions  developed  by  the  schoolmen,  with 
a  resulting  profession  of  political  leadership,  requiring  as  a 
preparation  liberal  education  ;  the  reconstruction  of  all  the 
vocations  through  the  application  thereto  of  science,  and  the 
consequent  development  of  leadership  in  any  vocation  into  a 
profession,  to  prepare  for  which  a  liberal  culture  is  necessary. 
Lastly,  since  leadership  means  mastery  and  power  to  readjust, 
liberal  education  must  include  training  in  such  power,  —  ra- 
tional culture,  broader  than  the  vocation,  and  involving 
training  in  social  cooperation.  Thus  liberal  culture  has  come 
to  embody  all  its  meanings :  social  and  ethical  education, 
education  for  leadership,  education  for  leisure,  broad  edu- 
cation. These  conceptions  are  united  in  education  for  leader- 
ship, which,  since  it  is  preparation  for  a  profession,  has  come 
to  have  a  vocational  as  well  as  an  aristocratic  character. 


Aristocratic 
leadership 
not  re- 
garded as 
a  vocation 


SECTION  59.     The  rise  of  "vocational  training 

The  ordinary  notion  of  a  vocation  is  that  of  a  specialized 
occupation  by  which  one  may  be  able  to  get  a  living.  When 
we  apply  this  conception  both  to  historic  and  to  present  condi- 
tions, it  needs  some  amendment.  The  business  of  social  control 
has  been  from  time  immemorial  the  most  richly  rewarded 
occupation.  Yet  men  have  not  commonly  held  it  to  be  a  vo- 
cation, because  its  rewards  came  not  as  definite  payment  for 
a  recognized  service,  but  as  the  spoils  of  a  system  of  exploita- 
tion. The  growth  of  leadership  into  a  vocation  has  come  about 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  541 

by  the  exaltation  of  the  ideal  of  service,  and  by  the  rise  of  a 
democratic  society  in  which  it  is  coming  to  be  felt  that  the  only 
legitimate  source  of  income  is  a  service  to  which  is  attached 
a  definite  hire. 

Again,  the  business  of  social  control  early  developed  an  The  profe*- 
elaborate  cultural  basis  associated  not  only  with  its  utility, 
but  also  with  the  leisure,  the  academic  interests  of  life.     The      from  the 
existence  of  such  a  basis  has  caused  this  occupation  to  be  dif-      by°t  Tcui- 
ferentiated  from  other  vocations.     On  the  other  hand,  wher-      turaibasu 
ever  an  occupation  acquired  a  somewhat  similar  foundation 
in  learning  or  science,  it  rose  in  rank  and  became  distinct  from 
the   ordinary   service   for   pay.     It  became  a  profession  the 
peculiar  quality  of  which  is  found  in  the  fact  that  the  culture 
and  the  ability  that  it  requires  of  those  who  practice  it  allies 
it  with  distinction,  aristocracy,  leadership.     Thus,  while,  on 
the  one  hand,  social  control  becomes  a  profession  by  acquir- 
ing the  character  of  service  that  hitherto  belonged  to  the  ordi- 
nary vocations,  so  other  vocations  became  professions  through 
the  acquisition  of  a  cultural  basis  such  as  was  at  first  possessed 
exclusively  by  the  art  of  social  control. 

The  so-called  learned  professions,  law,  ministry,  teaching,  The  learned 
and  even  medicine,  are  offshoots  of  the  art  of  social  control.  as°invohN 
They  illustrate  the  earlier  fields  in  which  this  art  gets  definitely  "*  **>& 

J  ...  social  con- 

into  the  form  of  a  vocation.  In  these  professions  an  opportu-  troi  ^j 
nity  was  offered  for  any  gifted  man  to  attain  a  position  midway, 
as  it  were,  between  the  aristocracy  who  control  and  the  people 
who  serve.  On  the  one  hand,  the  lawyer,  the  priest,  and  the 
teacher  became  experts  in  phases  of  that  culture  which  had  been 
in  the  past  so  important  an  asset  for  a  governing  class.  They 
were  learned  in  some  form  of  the  art  of  social  control.  On  the 
other  hand,  they  served  for  pay,  and  in  that  were  differentiated 
from  the  genuine  aristocracy.  However,  they  prepared  the 
way  for  the  conception  that  social  control  should  in  all  its  phases 


sen-ice 


542 


Principles  of  Education 


The  profes- 
sions as 
creative  of 
the  first 
vocational 
schools 


The  decline 
of  appren- 
ticeship 
and  its 


be  a  definite  service  for  a  stipulated  reward;   that  is,  a  gen- 
uine profession. 

The  rise  of  the  profession  meant  the  advent  of  an  elaborate 
form  of  vocational  training  by  the  school.  But  the  growth  of 
democracy  and  the  reconstruction  of  industrial  life  by  applied 
science  have  made  it  necessary  that  the  school  should  undertake 
the  preparation  for  vocations  not  intellectual  enough  to  war- 
rant their  being  called  professions.  More  and  more  the  system 
of  apprenticeship,  originally  adequate  to  prepare  for  such  call- 
ings, has  broken  down,  and  the  vocational  school,  which,  as 
distinguished  from  the  professional  school,  prepares  for  occu- 
pations requiring  a  smaller  amount  of  training,  has  come  to 
be  a  recognized  part  of  our  educational  system. 

The  system  of  apprenticeship  has  failed  for  two  reasons. 
First,  the  organization  of  modern  industry  has  left  the  mature 
workers  in  any  field  little  opportunity  or  incentive  to  train 
apprentices.  They  tend  to  work  in  organized  groups,  rather 
than  singly,  and  where  such  is  the  case  each,  instead  of  conduct- 
ing on  his  own  account  a  business  with  many  phases,  works 
at  a  special  task  which  is  only  part  of  a  total  business,  the 
control  of  which  lies  in  the  hands  of  some  captain  of  industry. 
Such  a  worker  has  nothing  to  give  an  apprentice  to  do,  and  no 
motive,  except  that  of  kindly  interest,  for  offering  him  instruc- 
tion. Hence,  the  apprentice  is  crowded  out,  and  the  employer, 
in  order  to  get  properly  prepared  recruits  for  his  service,  has 
in  some  cases  set  up  vocational  schools.  Second,  the  applica- 
tion of  science  to  the  arts  of  life  has  made  the  preparation  for 
any  vocation  require  a  certain  amount  of  such  education  in 
science  as  has  never  been  given  by  apprenticeship,  nor  by  any 
other  agency  than  a  school.  Moreover,  the  specialized  nature 
of  the  work  of  men  in  the  vocations  renders  apprenticeship  to 
them  too  narrow  as  experience  to  give  an  adequate  preparation 
for  anything  except  a  very  specific  task.  Such  a  limitation 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  543 

is  highly  undesirable,  since  it  makes  for  a  lack  of  flexibility, 
a  dependence,  which  it  is  the  purpose  of  modern  democratic 
education  to  avoid. 

The  rise  of  vocational  education  has,  therefore,  been  due  first,  Vocational 
to  the  reconstruction  of  the  lower  vocations  and  the  creation      ^""oThc 
of  the  professions  by  the  utilization  of  the  materials  of  learning      rcconstruc 
and  of  science,  and  second,  to  the  coincident  gam  in  human 


respect  for  service  for  pay.     Both  these  advances  are  due  to      and  "' 

•  n  ..-<•  i    rv 

the  development  of  the  higher  learning,  including  ethics,  phi-      spect  for 
losophy  and  science,  and  it  might  be  proper  to  point  out  the 
main  steps  in  the  process  by  which  this  culture  advanced  to  a 
position  in  which  it  was  enabled  to  effect  such  ethical  and 
industrial  changes. 

The  art  of  social  control  from  which  the  higher  culture  sprang  The  first 
was  essentially  an  art  of  controlling  wills.     This  art  was  so 
all-absorbing  an  one  in  early  culture  that  not  only  the  govern-      in  the  con- 
ment  of  men,  but  also  the  dealing  with  nature  took  the  form      J^0 
of  methods  of  influencing  volition.     Medicine  consisted  largely 
of  the  exorcism  of  evil  spirits,  religion  of  the  propitiation  of 
the  supernatural  powers,  and  science  of  the  study  of  the  edicts 
of  the  stars  or  the  whims  of  nature  deities.     Among  the  leading 
minds  the  custom  obtained  of  gaining  their  ends  by  commands, 
bribes,  threats,  punishment,  suggestion,  cajolery,  or  persuasion, 
and  when  they  came  to  deal  with  natural  forces,  they  fell  back 
on  these  familiar  devices,  instead  of  hunting  for  those  uniform 
antecedents,  or  causes,  the  production  of  which  will  by  mechan- 
ical rather  than  teleological  compulsion  bring  about  the  desired 
result. 

In  connection  with  this  art  of  controlling  wills  there  grew  up  Traditional 
a  body  of  tradition  that  was  eventually  committed  to  writing.      ™fethcirs 
The  preservation  of  written  records  is,  of  course,  the  main     control 
instrumentality  by  which  haphazard  observations  are  com- 
pared and  generalized,  the  generalizations  to  be  again  tested 


544  Principles  of  Education 

and  verified.  As  a  result  of  ages  of  such  comparison,  the  neces- 
sity of  a  scientific  method  is  forced  upon  the  human  mind. 
This  attitude  comes  with  a  prelude  of  skepticism,  which  springs 
from  the  recognition  of  the  failure  of  the  methods  that  tradition 
has  so  devotedly  preserved. 

Evolution  of       The  evolution  of  a  rationalized  practice  in  regard  to  the 
controfof    control  of  nature  and  men  involved  three   stages,     (i)  The 
men  and     earlier,  cruder  methods  of  controlling  wills  by  cunning  or  force 
were  replaced  by  the  more  refined  and  ethical  practice  of  per- 
suasion.    (2)  The  phases  of  practice  that  involve  a  genuine 
appeal  to  volition  were  separated  from  those  that  involve 
merely  a  mastery  of  natural  law.     (3)  The  natural  laws  that 
govern  volition,  as  well  as  the  ethical  principles  that  should 
control  it,  were  studied,  and  social  control  was  given  a  basis  hi 
natural  science  as  well  as  in  ethics. 

(0  The  age  (i)  As  society  grows  older  its  institutions  tend  toward  a 
ka^con-08  certain  rationality.  A  government  that  continually  resorts  to 
troi.  Rise  coercion  and  subterfuge  is  only  a  short  remove  from  anarchy, 
by  persua-  Stability  means  uniform  law,  and  law  that  works  fairly  well 
sionandso  jn  practice.  Law  that  conforms  to  these  requirements  will 

by  justice 

not  only  be  accepted,  but  will  seem,  to  the  majority  at  least,  as 
reasonable.  The  rule  of  privileged  classes  in  early  civilization 
is  regarded  as  not  only  inevitable,  because  of  their  power,  but 
as  best  for  society,  because  only  thus  do  the  lower  orders  get 
justice,  protection  from  enemies,  and,  in  general,  that  stable 
social  condition  without  which  the  practice  of  their  crafts  is 
fruitless.  Thus  the  successful  practice  of  social  control  comes 
to  mean  such  law  as  will  seem  to  men  reasonable  and  will 
persuade  rather  than  coerce  them  into  compliance.  When 
once  mankind  has  come  to  expect  ethical  government,  all 
proposals  for  change  must,  if  they  prove  effective,  be  made  to 
agree  with  the  general  sense  of  right.  In  the  conflict  of  inter- 
ests that  history  is  bound  to  involve,  there  is  a  constant  appeal 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  545 

by  the  rival  parties  to  this  underlying  justice.  Government 
comes  to  be  more  and  more,  not  the  art  of  forcing  or  tricking 
men  to  do  what  one  wants,  but  rather  that  of  discovering  that 
wisest,  fairest  course  to  which  they  cannot  fail  to  give  their 
assent  if  they  think.  The  science  of  social  control  drifts  away 
from  the  art  of  domineering,  and  becomes  the  study  of  justice. 
A  somewhat  similar  result  springs  from  the  accumulation  of 
data  concerning  the  therapeutics  of  incantations,  the  prayers 
for  personal  prosperity  and  the  confounding  of  one's  enemies, 
the  art  of  divination,  etc.  The  exposure  of  the  futility  of  these 
practices  leads  to  the  view  that  the  gods  are  not  to  be  influ- 
enced by  the  ordinary  appeals  which  are  efficacious  with  men, 
but  rather  that  they  follow  their  own  inscrutable  devices. 
The  reverence  in  which  they  are  held  causes  their  will  inevitably 
to  be  regarded  as  the  highest  justice,  —  a  justice  that  would 
be  plainly  apparent,  if  only  one  could  fathom  their  purposes. 
"Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him."  The  endeavor 
to  control  the  will  of  the  supernatural  powers  resolves  itself 
into  an  endeavor  to  comprehend  Divine  Justice,  and  here  again 
we  have  the  study  of  ethics. 

Thus  the  earlier  tradition  in  regard  to  the  devices  for  control-  The  practice 
ling  wills  drifts  into  a  study  of  the  teleology  of  life.    The  idea 


of  the  Good  is,  as  in  the  system  of  Plato,  held  to  explain  all 
things,  and  to  be  the  secret  of  all  power.  The  statesman  sets  Of  final 
before  mankind  the  ideals  for  which  government  should  strive, 
and  if  humanity  does  not  obey,  is  not  influenced  thereby,  so 
much  the  worse  for  humanity.  The  physician  becomes  pos- 
sessed of  a  theory  of  cure,  partly  founded  on  empirical  knowl- 
edge, but  more  largely  a  theory  of  what  health  is  and  how,  in 
consequence,  it  should  ideally  be  promoted.  The  teacher  also 
feels  that  his  duty  is  done  when  the  truth  is  presented,  and 
only  to  inherent  evil  can  be  ascribed  the  failure  of  the  child  to 
respond.  The  child  who  does  not  learn  is  held  to  deserve  pun- 

2N 


546  Principles  of  Education 

ishment,  as  one  whose  defect  is  moral,  not  as  one  whose  case 
is  to  be  mastered  and  controlled  through  the  principles  of  gen- 
etic psychology.  Philosophy  concerns  itself  with  final  causes, 
and  science  endeavors  to  conceive  the  perfect,  in  the  confident 
assurance  that  from  this  it  will  be  able  to  deduce  all  the  facts 
of  experience. 
The  teleo-  The  teleological  age  in  the  evolution  of  science  is  responsible 

°ifdCth  age  ^or  one  imPortant  gain  in  reference  to  the  rise  of  the  vocation. 

enhance-      It  prepared  the  way  for  the  elevation  of  the  ideal  of  service. 

dignity  of6  A  government  that  aims  at  justice  cannot  fail  to  regard  its  right 

service  to  exist  as  dependent  upon  its  service  to  its  people.  Chris- 
tianity found  ethical  satisfaction  in  a  Leader  who  was  regarded 
as  essentially  a  Servant.  The  ideal  of  humility  in  doing  the 
will  of  God  led  to  the  conception  that  the  highest  quality  even 
of  an  aristocracy  was  that  of  helping  some  righteous  cause. 
Hence  chivalry  idealized  the  motto  "I  serve."  To  be  sure, 
it  was  only  in  modern  times  that  the  taking  of  pay  for  service 
came  to  be  regarded  as  other  than  debasing.  It  was  necessary 
that  progress  in  ethics  should  reach  the  point  of  creating  de- 
mocracy before  this  result  could  be  attained.  For  there  was 
need,  not  only  that  service  should  be  exalted,  but  also  that 
exploitation  be  brought  into  question,  and  that  the  ground 
should  thus  be  cut  beneath  the  feet  of  any  source  of  income 
except  the  pay  for  service,  before  men  were  reconciled  to  the 
view  that  the  laborer  is  not  in  a  measure  disgraced  by  receiving 
the  reward  of  which  he  is  worthy.  It  is  not  meant  that  exploi- 
tation has  by  any  means  been  put  to  rout,  as  a  phase  of  econ- 
omic life.  Yet  it  is  certain  that  it  has  not  only  lost  its  ancient 
honor,  but  has  come  under  suspicion,  while  service  for  pay 
has  gained  recognition  as  a  transaction  the  details  of  which 
are  so  open  to  inspection  that  any  injustice  is  likely  to  get  the 
criticism  it  deserves. 

(2)  The  teleological  age,  so  far  as  natural  science  was  con- 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  547 

cerned,  received  its  death  blow  in  the  period  of  which  Bacon  is  (,)  Nature 
the  philosophic  representative.  It  was  seen  that  the  contem- 
plation of  final  causes  does  not  reveal  any  explanation  of  the  of 
phenomena  of  nature  upon  which  prediction  can  be  based.  Uw 
Indeed,  Socrates  had  made  this  discovery,  and  had  taken  it 
to  mean  that  philosophy  is  of  little  practical  utility  except  in 
the  field  of  ethics.  However,  the  Renaissance  advanced  be- 
yond the  Ancients  in  recognizing  the  tremendous  value  of 
scientific  method  in  observation,  generalization,  and  verifica- 
tion. Thus  natural  science  began  to  gain  results,  and  infused 
with  new  confidence,  it  proceeded  to  claim  the  entire  realm 
of  the  physical.  Teleology  was  replaced  by  mechanical  causa- 
tion. Ultimately,  the  application  of  scientific  law  to  practice 
began  to  yield  extraordinary  gains,  and  the  world  became 
thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  looking  to  science  rather 
than  to  ethics  to  find  the  secret  by  which  men  may  gain  the 
mastery  of  things.  The  effect  of  applied  science  in  differentiat- 
ing into  a  profession  the  upper  phases  of  those  vocations  which 
deal  with  the  physical  world  and  especially  with  mechanical 
agencies  has  already  been  indicated,  as  has  also  the  correspond- 
ing reorganization  of  industry  and  the  resulting  need  of  voca- 
tional schools  for  even  the  lower  grades  of  workers. 

(3)  The  study  of  natural  causation  does  not  cease  with  the  (3)  Social 
confines  of  the  physical  world.     Psychology  comes  to  be  treated        "nl7o  be 
as  a  natural  science,  and  sociology  and  even  ethics  have  their     »  matter 
facts  and  their  natural  laws,  which  all  who  would  influence     law 
man  must  respect.     The  inroads  of  the  spirit  of  natural  science 
into  these  realms,  that  to  Socrates  were  the  exclusive  domain 
of  teleology,  has  resulted  in  a  reconstruction  of  the  professions 
that    concern    themselves    extensively    with    social    control. 
Teaching  comes  to  mean,  not  merely  to  know  one's  subject, 
but  also  how  to  present  it  successfully.    The  ministry  becomes 
a  service  of  scientific  philanthropy,  as  well  as  an  exhortation  to 


548  Principles  of  Education 

remember  and  prepare  for  the  hereafter.  Even  law  becomes 
touched  by  the  dawning  apprehension  that  its  justice  and  its 
penalties  must  take  account  of  the  facts  of  human  nature. 
The  legislator  and  the  judge  realize  that  some  laws  cannot 
and  others  will  not  be  obeyed,  that  punishment  should  protect 
society  and  aim  to  reform  the  culprit,  as  well  as  to  uphold  the 
majesty  of  justice. 

AH  profes-          In  all  this  there  is  much  of  ethics,  but  there  is  also  a  consider- 
able infusion  of  the  spirit  of  natural  science.     The  learned  pro- 


come  sci- 


entific fessions  are  coming  to  require  as  a  preparation  more  than  learn- 
ing in  traditions  and  an  apprenticeship  in  promulgating  the 
ideas  and  the  practices  which  they  represent.  It  is  necessary 
to  know  human  nature  and  society  in  a  fairly  scientific  way  in 
order  to  rationalize  with  an  approach  to  adequacy  the  practice 
of  these  callings. 

Review  of  If  one  were  to  review  the  actual  history  of  vocational  instruc- 
vocationaf  ^on»  ^e  would  begin  with  the  learned  professions,  theology, 
schools  law,  teaching,  and  medicine.  We  have  here  the  four  faculties 
of  the  medieval  university,  since  the  faculty  of  philosophy 
may  be  said  to  have  had  in  view  the  profession  of  teaching, 
as  well  as  the  purely  academic  aim  of  instructing  in  philosophy 
and  the  like.  Then  follows  the  establishment  of  schools  for 
the  military  and  naval  professions,  and  for  engineering  in  its 
various  forms.  Then  schools  for  agriculture,  commerce,  and 
industry  appear.  Lastly,  we  are  in  recent  years  turning  various 
political  and  social  services  associated  with  government  into 
professions.  Thus  philanthropy  and  the  diplomatic  service 
are  coming  to  have  special  schools.  Doubtless,  shortly, 
journalism  will  be  similarly  provided  for.  Eventually,  there  is 
reason  to  believe  that  nearly  all  of  the  political  offices  will 
come  to  demand  a  professional  preparation.  The  beginnings 
of  this  movement  are  to  be  seen  in  the  growth  of  a  professional 
civil  service.  There  is  no  reason  why  the  functions  of  govern- 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  549 

ment  cannot  be  more  efficiently  performed  by  men  trained  to 
this  profession  and  enjoying  a  fairly  permanent  tenure,  than  by 
men  elected  at  haphazard  to  hold  for  only  a  short  time,  provided 
the  possibility  of  the  abuse  of  power  on  their  part  is  checked  by 
proper  inspection  and  publicity  in  regard  to  their  efficiency. 

In  resume,  it  may  be  noted  that  vocational  training  as  given  Summary 
in  the  school  springs  from  the  rise  of  vocations  that  demand 
school  training.  Such  vocations  arose  from  two  sources. 
First,  the  art  of  social  control  grew  into  a  number  of  vocations 
through  the  breaking  off  of  the  learned  professions  and  the 
gradual  differentiation  of  other  phases  of  government  into 
callings  pursued  by  pay.  This  process  was  favored  by  the 
rise  of  democracy  and  the  exaltation  of  the  ideal  of  service. 
Second,  the  vocations  that  in  earlier  civilization  were  held  as 
servile  have  with  the  application  to  them  of  scientific  founda- 
tions become  transformed  so  that  one  can  no  longer  prepare 
for  them  by  apprenticeship,  but  school  training  has  become 
necessary.  Moreover,  those  higher  departments  of  such  work 
for  which  an  elaborate  scientific  foundation  is  required  have 
come  to  be  regarded  as  professions  on  a  par  with  the  callings 
that  are  concerned  with  social  control,  if,  indeed,  they  do  not 
involve  a  measure  of  the  ability  to  manage  men.  The  condition 
of  these  changes  has  been  the  development  of  that  learning 
which  was  originally  associated  with  the  art  of  controlling  wills. 
It  first  grew  into  ethics  and  teleological  science.  In  this  form 
it  aided  in  the  democratic  reconstruction  of  the  ideals  of  govern- 
ment and  of  service.  Then  there  appeared  a  separation  be- 
tween the  province  of  teleological  and  that  of  natural  science. 
Finally,  natural  science  became  applied  to  industry,  and  also  to 
those  psychological  and  social  phenomena  that  are  concerned 
in  social  control.  Thus  it  became  the  natural  foundation  for 
all  professions,  both  those  which  arose  from  the  earlier  servile 
vocations  and  those  which  sprang  from  the  art  of  social  control. 


550  Principles  of  Education 

SECTION  60.     The  function  of  education  in  a  democracy 

Definition  of  The  form  of  government  toward  which  the  advanced  nations 
racy  of  the  world  seem  drifting  is  that  of  democracy.  The  cele- 
brated definition  of  Lincoln,  that  democracy  is  "  government 
of  the  people,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,"  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  successful  characterization  of  this  form  of  political 
control.  The  essential  element  in  Lincoln's  conception  is  that 
it  regards  government  as  a  service  which  aims  at  promoting 
the  welfare  of  each  as  much  as  is  possible  consistently  with 
the  welfare  of  all.  Both  from  the  practical  and  the  ethical 
points  of  view,  this  service  means  —  after  once  the  requirements 
of  public  order  have  been  met  —  the  opening  up  of  opportu- 
nities for  individual  improvement,  whether  material,  mental, 
or  moral,  and  the  equalization  of  these  opportunities  so  as  to 
secure  a  just  distribution  of  the  advantages  of  social  life. 

Education  According  to  this  conception  of  democracy,  the  part  of  edu- 

dispeoaer  cation  therein  becomes  of  fundamental  importance.  For  the 
of  oppor-  opportunities  that  man  in  civilized  conditions  can  get  are 

tumties  r 

largely  due  to  the  structure,  pursuits,  and  interests  of  society, 
and  these  in  turn  are  transmitted  by  social  heredity  or  educa- 
tion. To  be  able  to  appreciate  and  to  take  advantage  of  the 
opportunities  that  society  affords,  one  must  have  received  the 
corresponding  education.  The  government  that  endeavors 
to  create  or  to  distribute  the  opportunities  that  express  them- 
selves as  social  situations  must  make  education  a  fundamental 
concern. 

The  Uissez-  Although  the  consideration  just  recounted  is  the  fundamental 
opposecTto  reason  why  democracies  must  educate,  historically  other  rea- 
natbnai  sons  were  the  first  to  be  urged.  Popular  government  in  modern 

education 

times  came  under  the  inspiration  of  a  longing  for  liberty,  for 
release  from  the  exactions  and  tyrannies  of  the  absolutistic 
forms  of  control  then  prevailing.  In  consequence,  it  early 


erament 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  551 

attached  itself  to  the  policy  of  laissez  faire,  according  to  which 
no  justification  could  be  found  for  the  promotion  of  education 
by  the  state.  It  was  the  necessity,  rather  than  the  theory, 
of  democracy  that  led  to  the  beginnings  of  popular  systems  of 
education.  In  the  United  States,  Washington,  Jefferson,  and,  sute  educ.- 
above  all,  Horace  Mann,  the  greatest  influence  in  the  revival  tion.  ?  **" 

ill  /•  scntuu  to 

and  development  of  the  common  school  in  the  nineteenth  cen-  seif-gov- 
tury,  urged  that  a  government  by  the  people  was  impossible 
without  popular  education.  Democracy,  according  to  these 
men,  could  not  survive  unless  it  attended  to  the  preparation 
of  its  citizens  for  the  work  of  self-government.  Horace  Mann 
points  out  that  the  blind  propensities  of  human  nature  are  such 
that  without  restraint  they  lead  to  anarchy  and  overwhelm 
all.  Democracy  loosens  the  restraint  of  fear  and  of  arbitrary 
authority.  It  must  supply  the  restraint  of  intelligence,  or 
perish  by  the  forces  that  it  has  itself  released. 

"My  proposition  therefore  is  simply  this:  —  If  republican 
institutions  do  wake  up  unexampled  energies  in  the  whole  mass 
of  a  people,  and  give  them  implements  of  unexampled  power 
in  order  to  work  out  their  will,  then  these  same  institutions 
ought  also  to  confer  upon  that  people  unexampled  wisdom  and 
rectitude.  If  these  institutions  give  greater  scope  and  impulse 
to  the  lower  order  of  faculties  belonging  to  the  human  mind, 
then  they  must  also  give  more  authoritative  control  and  more 
skillful  guidance  to  the  higher  ones.  If  they  multiply  tempta- 
tions, they  must  also  fortify  against  them.  If  they  quicken 
the  activity  and  enlarge  the  sphere  of  the  appetites  and  pas- 
sions, they  must,  at  least  in  an  equal  ratio,  establish  the  author- 
ity and  extend  the  jurisdiction  of  reason  and  conscience.  In 
a  word,  we  must  not  add  to  the  impulsive,  without  also  adding 
to  the  regulative  forces."  1 

The  only  regulative  force  adequate  to  this  task  is,  in  the  opin- 
ion of  Horace  Mann,  education.  Here,  then,  we  find  a  justi- 

1  Necessity  of  Education  in  a  Republican  Government. 


552 


Principles  of  Education 


Higher  edu- 
cation  as 
a  cure  for 
political 
corrup- 
tion 


Contention 
that  edu- 
cation fa- 
vors crime 


Error  of  this 
notion 


fication  for  the  abandonment  of  the  policy  of  laissez  faire. 
The  government  must  strive  to  preserve  itself,  and  the  only 
efficient  way  of  doing  so  is  to  provide  for  education,  and,  in- 
deed, to  make  it  compulsory. 

A  similar  argument  has  in  modern  times  frequently  been 
advanced  to  defend  higher  education.  It  has  been  supposed 
that  the  salvation  of  the  nation  might  be  found  in  the  ideals 
of  those  who  are  graduated  from  her  secondary  schools  and 
colleges.  In  them  it  is  hoped  that  we  may  obtain  political 
leaders  whose  notion  of  service  is  not  "graft,"  but  rather  the 
welfare  of  the  body  politic.  President  Butler,1  for  example, 
finds  in  education  a  means  by  which  public  service  may  be 
rescued  from  the  grip  of  the  spoilsman,  and  given  over  to  the 
efficient. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  both  these  views  attribute  to  educa- 
tion the  function  of  moral  culture.  Indeed,  it  is  evident  that 
the  moral  phase  of  education  is  emphasized  more  than  the 
intellectual  one.  There  are,  however,  those  who  would  main- 
tain that  the  education  of  the  modern  school,  instead  of  promot- 
ing the  moral  life,  has  in  fact  tended  to  destroy  it.  For  ex- 
ample, in  the  last  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century  a  number 
of  prominent  review  writers  brought  out  the  idea  that  the 
statistics  of  crime  show  an  increase  in  those  countries  in  which 
popular  systems  of  education  had  recently  been  built  up. 
Such  a  result,  they  maintained,  might  have  been  expected, 
for  education  rouses  the  discontent  of  the  needy  and  sharpens 
the  wits  of  the  knave,  thus  provoking  crime  and  equipping 
with  means  for  its  more  successful  prosecution.2 

The  statistics  by  which  these  notions  were  supported  have 
been  shown  to  have  been  misinterpreted,  where  they  were  not 

1  Democracy  and  Education. 

2  This  controversy  is  summarized  in  Report  of  Commissioner  of  Education 
of  the  United  States,  1898-1899,  Ch.  XXVIII. 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  553 

positively  erroneous.  The  apparent  increase  in  crime  was  in 
most  cases  due  to  more  accurate  and  complete  records  of  the 
arrests  made,  or  to  the  greater  efficiency  of  the  officers  of  the 
law  in  apprehending  criminals,  or  to  legislative  enactments 
by  which  acts  hitherto  not  crimes  were  made  such.  On  the 
whole,  it  seems  likely  that  increase  in  education  means  a 
decrease  in  crime. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  evident  that  our  system  of  education,  in  Need  of  more 
avoiding  the  religious,  has  also  neglected  the  moral  for  the  sake 
of  the  intellectual.  Against  this  deficiency  the  last  decade  has  education 
seen  a  vigorous  revolt.  That  the  cultivation  of  the  ethical 
ideals  and  the  practice  of  devotion  to  the  public  service  should 
be  a  fundamental  aim  of  the  school,  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
and  we  shall  probably  see  in  a  few  years  a  reconstruction  of 
the  program  of  instruction  in  order  to  accomplish  more  effi- 
ciently this  function.  Meanwhile,  it  should  be  noted  that 
intellectual  culture  may  have  a  profound  reaction  upon  public 
affairs,  leading  to  a  purification  from  control  by  blind  passion 
or  by  unscrupulous  greed. 

The  nature  of  this  reaction  is  found  in  the  regulating  effects  intellectual 
of  a  cultivation  both  of  shrewdness  and  of  prudence.  A  nation  Baking  for 
of  intelligent  men  will  not  permit  the  spoilsman  to  govern,  be- 
cause it  is  evidently  not  in  the  interest  of  the  body  of  voters 
that  such  a  condition  should  prevail.  The  pursuit  of  private 
ends  ultimately  brings  many,  if  not  most,  men  across  the  trail 
of  the  politician,  and  if  this  personage  be  not  more  clever  than 
his  constituents,  his  perquisites  will  eventually  be  plucked 
away  by  those  upon  whom  they  have  surreptitiously  been 
levied.  Thus  shrewd  self-interest  in  each  is  the  parent  of  a 
fair  amount  of  enforced  rectitude  in  all.  Honesty  is  made  to 
be  the  best  policy,  and  a  prudential  morality  helps  to  promote 
the  public  good. 

One  cannot  for  a  moment  contend  that  such  a  regime  of 


554  Principles  of  Education 

shrewdness  and  prudence  is  a  satisfactory  substitute  for  genuine 
moral  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  community.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  undoubtedly  indispensable  to  a  democratic  state,  not  only 
that  the  people  should  be  morally  well  disposed,  but  also  that 
they  should  be  keenly  alive  to  the  effects  of  public  acts  or 
negligences  and  to  the  efficiency  of  public  servants.  That  our 
national  education  can  be  improved  as  an  agency  for  moral 
culture  does  not  mean  that  its  intellectual  training  has  not  been 
and  will  not  continue  to  be  of  fundamental  importance  in  foster- 
ing public  as  well  as  private  welfare.  This  mental  training, 
without  which  moral  culture  would  be  inadequate  to  suppress 
either  the  propensities  of  the  citizen  or  the  cupidity  of  the 
professional  politician,  contributes  also  to  another  aim  of 
democracy,  the  equalizing  of  opportunities.  This  third  pur- 
pose is,  as  has  been  contended,  even  more  fundamental  than 
the  others. 

Democracy  a       The  laws  of  nature,  particularly  of  human  nature,  make  this 
esPeciau<y  difficult.     The  efficiency  of  some  as  contrasted 


natural  with  others  is  bound  continually  to  be  capitalized  in  such 
ward  aris-  forms  as  to  increase  their  original  advantage.  "To  him  that 
tocracy  hath  shall  be  given."  Nature  tends  toward  differentiation, 
aristocracy.  Nature  creates  the  aristocracy  of  the  organic 
world,  with  man  as  the  lord  of  all.  The  moral  sense  of  man 
has,  however,  created  society  at  the  expense  of  the  greatest 
of  differentiating  agencies,  the  principle  of  natural  selection. 
If  nature  makes  aristocracy,  man  makes  democracy.  Society, 
religion,  Christianity,  —  all  these  are  but  stages  toward  that 
goal  of  the  moral  sense,  the  brotherhood  of  man,  the  exact 
nature  of  which  is,  doubtless,  as  yet  very  imperfectly  compre- 
hended. But  democracy  continually  encounters  the  natural 
drift  toward  differentiation  and  aristocracy.  Prestige,  prop- 
erty, and  family  solidarity  give  advantages  to  some  which 
they  do  not,  from  the  ethical  point  of  view,  deserve.  These 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education 


555 


warfare  on 
the  "un- 
earned in- 
crement 
of  prestige, 
property, 
and  culture 


advantages  are  a  sort  of  "unearned  increment."  Prestige 
makes  the  commonplaces  of  certain  men  seem  more  wise 
than  the  profound  insights  of  others.  The  rich  can  easily 
make  an  amount  of  money  utterly  beyond  the  power  of  poor 
men  of  similar  talent.  The  handicap  of  a  better  family  gives 
its  possessor  an  advantage  that  cannot  be  overcome  by  the 
humbly  born,  except  he  possesses  extraordinary  ability. 

Democracy  continually  wars  against  this  "unearned  incre- 
ment." But  it  is  quite  as  continually  compelled  to  question 
the  possibility,  even  the  desirability  of  success  in  this  struggle.  Democracy  a 
It  cannot  destroy  prestige.  Perhaps  it  ought  not  to  do  so, 
for  prestige  helps  men  to  single  out  those  from  whom  they 
may  expect  good  results.  It  should  not  destroy  property, 
because  property  is  not  only  a  just  reward  for  deserts,  but  also 
an  invaluable  incentive  to  endeavor.  Least  of  all,  should 
democracy  interfere,  after  the  fashion  recommended  by  Plato, 
with  that  family  inheritance  of  culture  which  stimulates  so 
large  a  measure  of  the  self-sacrifice  among  men.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  are  constantly  robbing  prestige  of  that  permanent 
value  which  causes  it  to  tyrannize  over  human  judgment. 
More  and  more  does  society  compel  the  later  work  of  its  heroes 
to  submit  to  the  same  tests  as  have  their  earlier  successes. 
Prestige  continues  to  secure  attention,  but  it  is  no  longer  so 
certain  as  of  yore  to  compel  acceptance.  Again,  as  far  as 
economic  conditions  are  concerned,  the  United  States  early 
abandoned  the  practice  of  laissez  faire,  and  entered  upon  a 
policy  of  endeavoring  to  create  new  opportunities.  New 
territory  was  acquired  to  offer  a  foothold  to  those  who  had  not 
acquired  property  within  the  existing  limits  of  the  country. 
Internal  improvements,  the  subsidizing  of  railroads,  the  pro- 
tective tariff,  the  post  office  and  the  like  are  examples  of  the 
methods  by  which  the  nation  has  endeavored  to  develop  new 
conditions  in  which  the  handicap  of  those  who  have  established 


556  Principles  of  Education 

a  grip  upon  the  prevailing  opportunities  shall  not  work  so  con- 
clusively to  the  disadvantage  of  such  as  from  chance  or  ineffi- 
ciency, either  in  themselves  or  in  their  parents,  have  been  left 
among  the  unprosperous. 

Necessity  of        Democracy  has  even  done  something  to  interfere  with  the 
handicaps  that  spring  from  family  solidarity.     The  agitation 


inheritance  for  laws  that  shall  limit  the  amount  of  wealth  that  can  be 
handed  on  from  an  individual  to  his  heirs,  and  the  actual 
enactment  of  considerable  legislation  in  that  direction  indicate 
the  ideals  and  the  temper  of  the  time.  Such  methods  are  dif- 
ficult to  employ,  because  they  are  negative.  They  do  not  cre- 
ate opportunities,  but  take  away  advantages.  They  could  not 
be  employed  in  reference  to  the  inheritance  of  culture,  for  it 
would  be  impossible  either  in  fact  or  in  ethics  to  limit  the  zeal 
of  the  parent  in  furthering  the  welfare  of  the  child  through 
education.  On  the  other  hand,  the  positive  method  of  creating 
opportunities  seems  here  peculiarly  appropriate.  The  state 
can  offer  through  the  school  an  education  the  excellence  of 
which  will  go  far  toward  swamping  out  the  advantages  in  train- 
ing that  spring  from  fortunate  parentage.  Indeed,  here  in 
education  democracy  finds  its  principal  agency  for  equaliz- 
ing the  opportunities  of  the  young. 

Reasons  why  Several  reasons  conspire  to  cause  education  to  outrank  in 
f^the^best  value  all  other  agencies  for  creating  and  equalizing  oppor- 
agency  for  tunities.  First  of  all,  public  education  does  not  take  away 

equalizing      ,  .  .. 

opportuni-    from  some,  —  except  in  taxes  for  its  support,  —  to  give  to 
ties  others,  but  gives  freely  and  equally  to  all.     Second,  it  gives 

only  to  those  who  are  capable  and  willing  to  make  the  effort 
to  obtain  it,  thus  satisfying  the  ethical  sense  of  the  scientific 
philanthropist,  who  fears  the  pauperizing  effect  of  gifts.  Third, 
it  gives  to  the  young,  destroying  in  a  measure  the  inequalities 
of  the  parentage  for  which  they  are  not  responsible.  Fourth, 
education,  unlike  governmental  efforts  to  open  up  material 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  557 

resources  to  the  exploitation  of  the  enterprising,  does  not  give 
something  easily  to  be  monopolized  by  clever,  scheming  men, 
thus  proving  a  source  of  private  gain  rather  than  of  public 
benefit.  Indeed,  too  frequently  new  material  resources,  instead 
of  turning  out  to  be  the  opportunity  of  the  needy,  have  been 
seized  upon  by  those  whose  business  resources  gave  them  a 
handicap.  Thus  they  so  far  failed  to  equalize  opportunities 
that  they  actually  exaggerated  the  advantage  of  those  whose 
fortunes  were  already  in  the  ascendant.  Fifth,  education 
increases  the  efficiency  of  the  service  of  the  individual,  and  this 
factor  is  in  economic  history  continually  coming  to  have  a 
greater  relative  value  than  wealth.  The  individual  who  pos- 
sesses little  or  no  capital,  but  whose  services  are  valuable,  is 
thus  as  time  goes  on  more  likely  to  be  in  a  better  economic 
position  than  one  with  considerable  wealth  but  little  individual 
efficiency.  With  the  increase  in  productive  power  brought 
about  by  modern  economic  progress,  wealth  can  be  produced 
far  more  quickly  and  easily.  The  effort  even  of  unskilled  labor 
thus  grows  more  valuable  as  compared  with  the  value  of  the 
product.  But  if  this  be  true  of  untrained  and  inferior  service, 
how  much  more  true  is  it  of  that  which  is  trained  and  superior  ! 
Education,  in  increasing  the  value  of  service,  is  thus  deter- 
mining the  factor  which  will  more  and  more  dominate  the  eco- 
nomic relations  of  men.  The  leaders  in  business,  as  in  every 
other  department  of  life,  are  coming  to  be  those  whose  service 
is  most  effective,  rather  than  those  whose  wealth  is  greatest. 
Thus  the  test  of  efficiency  in  the  vocation,  instead  of  that  of 
ancestry  or  material  resources  or  any  other  form  of  status  which 
does  not  involve  individual  service,  becomes  the  basis  for 
determining  who  shall  direct  human  affairs  and  be  held  in 
corresponding  honor. 

Here  we  may  recur  to  the  conception,  advanced  in  the  early 
part  of  the  present  section,  that,  since  the  opportunities  of 


558  Principles  of  Education 

to-day  are  largely  dependent  on  social  heredity,  so  the  effi- 
ciencies upon  which  the  utilization  of  these  opportunities  de- 
pend are  in  like  degree  furthered  by  education.  Hence,  if 
we  would  create  and  equalize  opportunities,  we  must  create 
and  equalize  educational  advantages.  Herein  lies  unquestion- 
ably the  fundamental  function  of  education  in  a  democracy. 
The  public  school  is  not  only  necessary  to  insure  a  government 
of  the  people,  by  fostering  the  control  of  those  dangerous  human 
propensities  to  which  popular  government  gives  so  free  a  rein, 
and  by  the  people,  by  routing  the  demagogue  and  the  spoilsman, 
but  it  is  also  an  indispensable  agency  to  bring  about  that  just 
distribution  of  the  means  of  human  welfare  which  constitutes 
the  meaning  of  government  for  the  people. 

Education  as  There  is  still  a  fourth  function  of  education  in  a  democracy 
fos^eriiT  of  which  deserves  mention.  It  is  the  most  valuable  of  agencies 
the  demo-  for  preserving  the  democratic  temper.  As  democracy  means 
temper  leadership  through  individual  service,  and  not  because  of 
wealth,  hereditary  rank,  or  accident  of  fortune,  so  it  must  con- 
tinually war  against  the  natural  tendency  for  power  and  privi- 
lege to  drift  to  castes.  To  keep  up  this  warfare  the  spirit  of 
hostility  to  special  privileges  must  be  kept  alive.  Democratic 
government  should  not  foster  class  hatred,  because  it  should 
foster  no  classes  to  hate  and  be  hated.  Like  any  form  of 
government,  it  needs  leaders,  but,  if  these  are  selected  for  ser- 
vice rather  than  because  of  status,  they  do  not  constitute  a 
caste.  A  caste  is  composed  of  men  who  cannot  because  of 
their  own  acts  rise  above  or  fall  below  their  station  in  life. 
Such  leadership  and  such  servility  democracy  rightly  abhors, 
and  a  hatred  of  them  is  not  a  hatred  of  classes,  but  a  hostility 
to  the  tendency  to  form  them,  which  is  as  essential  to  the 
preservation  of  democracy  as  is  breath  to  life.  This  hostility 
education  breeds.  It  teaches  men  the  nature  and  functions 
of  society,  and,  therefore,  puts  them  in  a  position  to  criticize 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  559 

abuses.  It  enables  them  to  get  a  fairly  correct  estimate  of  the 
capacities  of  those  who  lead,  and  a  proper  judgment  of  the  work 
in  life  that  they  themselves  are  best  fitted  to  do.  It  creates 
a  self-respect  that  makes  men  as  unwilling  to  be  governed  by 
shams  or  by  pretense  as  by  the  naked  tyranny  of  force.  Like 
many  other  good  things  the  discontent  created  by  education 
may  be  a  great  evil.  When  it  is  the  discontent  of  envy,  of 
half-awakened  ignorance,  it  is,  indeed,  to  be  feared  by  any 
form  of  government.  But  the  remedy  for  the  evils  of  education 
is  more  education,  and  an  efficient  system  of  schools  ought  to 
insure  a  democracy  against  any  serious  discontent  except  that 
which  provokes  the  individual  to  do  his  best,  and  to  resent  any 
tendencies  which  interfere  with  the  freedom  of  opportunity 
for  each  to  perform  for  society  the  service  for  which  he  is  best 
fitted  and  to  gain  just  recognition  and  reward. 

To  education  we  may,  then,  ascribe  four  main  uses  for  demo-  Summary 
cratic  government.  It  teaches  people  to  govern  themselves, 
it  tends  to  destroy  corruption  and  inefficiency  in  public  service, 
it  makes  for  equality  of  opportunity,  and  it  creates  the  spirit 
that  is  discontented  with  any  condition  where  such  justice 
does  not  prevail.  The  two  first  functions  are  distinctly  moral 
in  character,  and  they  imply  that  democratic  education  should 
not  neglect,  but  rather  emphasize,  the  moral  element  in  the 
curriculum.  However,  even  intellectual  education  can  scarcely 
fail  to  cultivate  a  prudential  morality  that  must  make  for  just 
and  efficient  government.  The  function  of  equalizing  oppor- 
tunities is  the  most  important  of  the  uses  of  education  in  a 
democracy.  Without  such  equality  the  "unearned  incre- 
ments," that  prestige,  property,  and  family  solidarity  inevitably 
involve,  will  result  in  the  differentiation  of  society  into  castes. 
Education,  by  equalizing  the  opportunities  for  culture,  af- 
fects that  capacity  for  service  which  is  coming  to  be  the  most 
important  basis  for  differentiating  men.  It  is  at  once  the 


560 


Principles  of  Education 


simplest,  the  fairest,  and  the  most  effective  instrument  for  pre- 
serving that  equality  without  which  democracy  is  impossible. 


Democratic 


into  a  vo- 


SECTION  61.     The  ideal  of  education  in  a  democracy 

If,  then,  education  is  not  only  indispensable  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  democracy,  but  is  also  the  principal  agency  of  such  a 
government  in  rendering  its  characteristic  service  to  its  people, 
what  are  the  requisite  elements  in  the  training  that  it  should 
provide  ?  We  may  say  at  once,  in  view  of  our  earlier  discus- 
sions, that  no  education  provides  equal  opportunities  that  does 
not  train  efficiently  for  whatever  vocation  the  individual  is  by 
nature  fitted  to  enter,  provided  society  has  a  use  for  such  a 
vocation.  As  the  ideal  of  democracy  implies  that  each  one 
should  render  a  service  to  the  community  which  entitles  him 
to  a  specific  rating  and  reward,  so  the  ideal  education  in  such 
a  government  is  one  that  aims  to  open  up  all  vocations  to  a 
free  competition  where  talent,  industry,  and  character  are  the 
determining  selective  forces. 

We  have  sketched  such  a  scheme  of  education  in  discussing 
^ne  function  of  the  school.  According  to  the  position  there 
taken,  all  children  should  pass  through  the  stages,  not  only  of 
elementary,  but  also  of  secondary  and  higher  education.  In 
the  secondary  school  the  pupil  should  "find  himself";  that 
is,  discover  his  vocation.  In  the  higher  school  he  should  pre- 
pare for  his  calling.  By  a  continuous  process  of  differentiating 
selection  pupils  should  be  drafted  out  of  the  ranks  of  the  second- 
ary school  to  enter  vocational  schools  that  prepare  for  occu- 
pations which  require  little  more  than  manual  skill,  to  enter 
schools  preparing  for  intermediate  positions  in  the  various 
walks  of  life,  or  to  take  that  professional  training  which  will 
adapt  its  graduates  to  positions  of  leadership. 

Education  in  a  democracy  should  provide  all  these  oppor- 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education 


tunities  so  freely  that  no  child  shall  be  shut  out  from  his  proper 
calling  because  of  poverty  or  the  incompetence  of  his  parents. 
It  should  not  only  provide  these  opportunities,  but  also,  as  we 
have  seen,  insist  that,  up  to  the  age  when  a  satisfactory  test 
of  the  child's  aptitudes  may  be  supposed  to  have  been  made, 
they  should  have  been  utilized  as  effectively  as  compulsory 
attendance  can  make  possible.  The  higher  professional  train- 
ing will  depend  upon  the  energy  and  the  ability  of  the  student, 
but  it  should  be  as  freely  offered  as  a  just  apportionment  of 
available  public  funds  permits.  A  system  that  charges  high 
tuitions  for  professional  training,  on  the  ground  that  the  stu- 
dent is  here  getting  some  pecuniary  advantages  for  which  he 
should  pay,  inevitably  tends  to  shut  out  certain  individuals 
from  equality  of  educational  opportunity.  The  child  of  pov- 
erty may  by  extraordinary  efforts  put  himself  on  a  footing  that 
his  more  fortunate  competitor  enjoys  as  a  gift,  but  the  handi- 
cap is  neither  democratic  nor  just.  That  hard  labor  and  sacri- 
fices bring  their  reward  of  character  is  true,  but  this  should 
not  blind  us  to  the  fact  that  poverty  and  the  lack  of  parental 
insight  or  responsibility  may  often  render,  not  only  the  best 
education,  but  even  any  higher  education  impossible. 

Assuming,  then,  that  democratic  education  should  provide, 
so  far  as  possible,  equal  opportunity  for  all  in  respect  to  voca- 
tional training,  what  are  its  obligations  in  the  matter  of  liberal 
training  ?  According  to  the  account  that  has  been  given  of  the 
evolution  of  liberal  education,  we  may  proceed  to  analyze  it 
into  three  parts,  each  of  which  should,  doubtless,  be  represented 
in  a  truly  democratic  training.  These  are  (i)  education  for 
flexibility;  (2)  education  for  social  cooperation;  and  (3)  edu- 
cation for  leisure. 

(i)  By  education  for  flexibility  is  meant  such  training  as 
makes  for  ready  readjustment.  It  is  the  education  of  the  rea- 
son. Such  culture  is  important  in  modern  society,  because  of 


Vocational 
education 
of  all  sorts 
should  be 
within  the 
reach  of  all 


Phases  of 
liberal  cul- 
ture neces- 
sary to  a 
democratic 
education 


562  Principles  of  Education 

(i>  Desira-     the  rapid  changes  in  the  modes  of  living  and  of  gaining  a  liveli- 
universai     n°°d  that  spring  from  a  conscious  endeavor  at  betterment. 


education  It  is  especially  important  in  a  democracy,  in  order  to  insure  as 
bUity  af  large  a  distribution  as  possible,  not  only  of  the  power  to  initiate 
new  conditions,  but  above  all,  of  the  ability  to  take  advantage 
of  them  or,  at  least,  become  adapted  to  them.  The  mass  of 
the  mechanical  workers  are  usually  opposed  to  new  methods, 
both  because  these  methods  save  labor,  thus,  for  a  time  at 
least,  throwing  some  out  of  work,  and  because  they  involve 
readjustments  to  new  tasks  and  the  acquisition  of  new  types  of 
skill,  —  processes  that  to  the  lower  order  of  intellect  and  culture 
are  difficult,  if  not  impossible.  Such  opposition  could  be  re- 
moved if  education  could  give  to  the  people  who  are  likely  to 
display  it  flexibility.  There  is  much  evidence  that  men 
accustomed  to  the  constant  improvement  of  methods  grow 
able,  not  only  to  survive  them,  but  even  to  initiate  and  to  profit 
by  them.  If  the  thing  be  possible,  democratic  government 
unquestionably  owes  it  to  the  people  to  cultivate  their  power 
of  readjustment,  and  thus  to  lighten  the  evils  of  the  progress 
which  it  encourages. 

Possibility  of  But  it  may  be  said  that  we  have  here  an  inherent  defect  of 
p^weiMto111  ^e  inferior  mind,  which  no  education,  however  democratic, 
readjust  can  hOpe  to  remedy,  any  more  than  we  can  by  legislation  make 
equal  men  whom  nature  created  different.  While  this  proposi- 
tion is  largely  true,  nevertheless,  education  can  probably  do 
much  to  increase  adjustability,  even  among  inferior  minds. 
It  will  be  mere  repetition  to  discuss  here  the  essential  elements 
in  the  education  of  reason.  Suffice  it  to  note  that  the  education 
which  will  do  most  to  cultivate  flexibility  is  one  that  does  not 
content  itself  with  facts  and  methods,  but  insists  on  reaching 
principles,  one  that  is  continually  compelling  the  utilization  of 
resources  already  learned  by  presenting  problems  involving 
them,  and  one  that  invokes  a  variety  of  situations  resembling 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  563 

those  of  life,  wherein  the  pupil  is  compelled  to  exercise  his 
powers  of  analysis  and  judgment.  It  is  hard  to  take  part  in 
the  activities  of  a  rational  and  progressive  world  without  catch- 
ing at  least  a  modicum  of  its  spirit  and  power.  Such  a  world 
the  modern  school  is  striving  to  become. 

Flexibility  is,  of  course,  the  most  extraordinary  attribute  of  Such 
the  leader.  The  endeavor  to  cultivate  such  a  trait  means, 
therefore,  training  in  leadership.  In  a  democracy  it  is  implied 
that  each  possesses  some  of  this  power,  some  capacity  to  take 
part  in  the  political,  social,  and  industrial  life  as  an  independent 
and,  indeed,  a  dominating  agent.  The  school  that  studies  its 
pupils  will  especially  cultivate  leadership  along  those  lines  in 
which  the  special  aptitudes  of  each  pupil  lies.  Thus  flexibility 
appears  most  clearly  in  the  field  of  one's  vocation,  and  depends 
on  the  extent  to  which  it  is  mastered. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  mastery  of  a  vocation  means  the  (&>  to  de- 
mastery  of  the  social  and  physical  conditions  which  that  voca- 

J 

tion  serves.  Thus  training  for  leadership  implies  broad  train- 
ing.  The  leaders  in  any  field  are  those  who  are  most  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  human  needs  to  meet  which  this  field 
exists.  Hence,  as  vocational  training  advances  to  greater  pro- 
fessional skill,  it  inevitably  broadens  into  greater  liberality. 
If  education,  in  its  zeal  to  make  the  specialist,  forgets  the  prob- 
lem of  the  adaptation  of  his  vocation  to  the  needs  of  human  life 
generally,  it  is,  indeed,  neglecting  flexibility,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  mastery.  No  man  knows  a  vocation  unless  he  knows  its 
value,  and  the  knowledge  of  uses  and  values  must  be  added  to 
that  of  causes  and  principles,  if  one  is  to  be  master  of  his  busi- 
ness rather  than  to  have  a  business  that  is  master  of  him. 

(2)  Thus  flexibility  may  be  said  to  be  the  aim  of  the  highest 
and  most  liberal  aspect  of  vocational  training.  It  is  that  which 
liberalizes  the  vocation,  making  it  masterful  and  free.  It 
leads  directly  into  the  social  environment,  in  which  the  demand 


564  Principles  of  Education 

for  the  vocation  is  found.     It  is,  therefore,  closely  allied  to  the 
second,  the  humanistic  phase  of  liberal  culture;  that  is,  edu- 
cation for  social  cooperation.      Such  culture  includes  moral, 
political,  and  religious  education,  in  addition  to  training  in 
manners  and  to  familiarizing  with  the  current  interests  of 
society  and  the  practices  connected  therewith.     It  is  necessary 
to  the  equipment  of  those  who  would  get  on  in  a  world  where 
men  work  directly  for  society  and  only  indirectly  for  themselves. 
(2)    Need  in       In  a  democracy  education  for  social  cooperation  assumes  for 
a^democ-     ajj  ^Q  importance  which  in  aristocratic  government  it  has  for 
education     the   ruling   class.     There  is  a   natural    though   unjustifiable 
assumption  that  in  a  free  government  the  public  interest  can 


tion  take  care  of  itself.     Since  aristocracies  govern  so  largely  to 

exploit,  it  has  been  hard  to  establish  the  ideal  of  public  office 
for  service.  To  the  masses  the  opportunity  to  take  part  in 
political  life  has  often  appealed  as  only  a  chance  to  share  in  the 
"graft"  of  leadership,  to  make  money.  If  we  are  all  to  be 
governed  in  the  interest  of  exploitation,  it  is  better  to  be  under 
an  aristocracy,  whose  incomes  and  positions  are  so  permanent 
and  sure  that  they  can  afford  to  attend  to  the  interests  of  the 
governed,  rather  than  by  a  horde  of  adventurers  to  whom 
the  temporary  enjoyment  of  office  is  regarded  as  a  means  of 
getting  rich  quick. 

Aims  of  edu-      Education  for  social  cooperation  should  aim  at  three  things: 
(a)  to  create  an  appreciation  of  the  interdependence  of  the 

operation  individual  and  society,  so  that  each  shall  find  in  the  interests 
and  in  the  welfare  of  the  whole  the  basis  for  his  own  interests 
and  welfare;  (6)  to  create  the  ideal  that  "public  office  is  a  public 
trust,"  that  is,  that,  like  any  other  vocation,  it  is  an  oppor- 
tunity to  serve  society  for  a  stipulated  reward;  (c)  to  create  the 
spirit  of  independence,  of  initiative,  and  of  leadership  in  matters 
that  concern  the  public  tastes  and  welfare.  As  contributory 
to  all  this,  there  should  be  training  in  moral  ideals,  training 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  565 

in  tact,  training  in  methods  of  social  cooperation,  study  in  the 
humanities  that  broaden  one's  comprehension  of  human  nature 
and  of  human  issues,  and  study  of  the  sciences  that  reveal  the 
laws  of  individual  and  social  action.  Such  a  program  is,  of 
course,  a  constantly  expanding  one,  but  it  is  certain  that  no 
grade  of  intellect  should  fail  to  receive  what  it  can  of  this  sort 
of  education,  and,  hence,  that  in  no  stage  of  instruction  should 
it  be  without  liberal  representation. 

Among  the  agencies  for  this  sort  of  training,  play  and  the  Use  of  the 
independent  student  activities  are  of  fundamental  importance.     JJJ^JJ,, 
The  educational  value  of  the  game  lies  in  that  it  leads  into     cation 
social  cooperation  and  the  avocations.     To  the  playful  activi- 
ties of  the  student,  the  humanistic  studies  should  be  made 
subsidiary,  having  the  function  of  contributing  to  these  fairly 
independent  pursuits  of  the  school  the  intellectual  foundation 
by  which  they  gain  meaning  and  permanence. 

The  higher  schools  of  the  democracy  have  been  adapted  from  Lack  of  social 
the  schools  of  the  aristocracy,  and  they  have  preserved  the 
antique  program  of  studies,  but  have  neglected  the  social  life 
that  centered  about  this.  Thus  that  which  was  rapidly  becom- 
ing the  less  valuable  factor  of  the  older  schools  was  especially 
cared  for  in  the  newer  ones.  On  the  other  hand,  democratic 
education  has  of  necessity  stressed  more  and  more  the  voca- 
tional factor.  Combining  the  two  tendencies,  our  schools 
have  concerned  themselves  in  giving  the  things  that  are  neces- 
sary in  order  to  get  a  living,  together  with  certain  "hall-marks" 
of  learning,  instead  of  becoming  centers  of  free  and  active  social 
life.  The  time  has  come,  not  only  for  a  renaissance  of  moral 
and  religious  culture,  but  also  for  the  active  development  of 
the  social  life  of  the  school.  In  this  we  may  find  a  means  of 
cultivating  both  the  aristocratic  virtues,  including  the  capacity 
to  lead,  and  those  traits  that  serve  as  a  foundation  for  the 
liberal  intercourse  of  a  democracy. 


566  Principles  of  Education 

(3)  Demo-  (3)  Education  in  social  cooperation  reaches  out  into  educa- 
tion6 ^on  ^or  leisure,  —  education  which,  like  play,  is  founded  on  a 
involves  }ove  of  activity  for  its  own  sake.  The  classes  upon  whom 

education  . 

for  leisure  democracy  has  thrust  the  burdens  of  government  have  been  in 
the  past  quite  as  free  from  leisure  as  from  leadership.  They 
are  being  forced  by  the  exigencies  of  the  new  political  life  to 
learn  what  the  public  duties  of  a  citizen  of  a  republic  are. 
They  will  also  be  compelled  by  the  growth  of  leisure  to  learn 
how  this  may  most  worthily  be  employed. 
Rise  of  uni-  The  development  of  the  conception  that  to  have  no  vocation 

versa!  lei-    jg  unworthy  is  no  more  characteristic  of  a  democracy  than  is 

sure  in 

democratic  the  rise  of  the  notion  that  all  should  have  a  certain  amount  of 
leisure.  The  vacation  is  quite  as  typical  of  to-day  as  is  the 
"strenuous  life."  The  eight-hour  law  and  the  Sabbatical  year, 
the  summer  outing  and  shorter  business  hours,  are  all,  doubt- 
less, symptomatic  of  a  time  when  the  program  of  life  for  the 
general  public  will  contain  a  very  considerable  amount  of  time 
that  can  be  devoted  to  avocations.  The  greater  effectiveness 
of  modern  means  of  production,  —  a  condition  that,  doubtless, 
tends  to  produce  the  illusion  of  strenuousness,  where  in  reality 
little  if  any  more  energy  or  time  is  used  than  when  life  seemed 
slower,  —  constitutes  the  most  important  cause  of  the  growth 
of  leisure  in  recent  times.  Moreover,  a  tendency  to  system- 
atize life,  which  is  associated  with  the  growth  of  very  compli- 
cated business  systems,  results  in  specific  and  prearranged 
periods  of  relief  from  work  rather  than  irregular  ones. 
Tendency  to  The  growth  of  leisure  brings  with  it  problems  of  considerable 
importance  and  difficulty.  In  general,  it  may  be  said  that  both 
irregular  and  newly  gained  leisure  tend  to  be  abused.  Men 
whose  lives  are  absorbed  in  the  vocation  are  prone  to  look  upon 
time  spent  away  from  it  as  properly  to  be  given  to  amusement. 
But  mere  amusement,  even  when  it  is  genuinely  recreative, 
represents  after  all  the  least  of  the  uses  of  leisure.  For  leisure 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  567 

is  the  parent  of  the  arts  and  the  sciences,  and  these  are  the 
parents  of  the  higher  civilization.  What  leisure  has  done  for 
the  race,  it  may  also  do  for  the  individual.  When  properly 
employed,  it  is  the  most  important  source  of  personal  growth. 
When  improperly  employed,  it  is  the  creator  of  idleness  and 
vice,  incompetence  and  degeneracy.  Eight-hour  laws  may  be, 
as  President  Eliot  suggests,  a  positive  harm.  If  they  merely 
furnish  a  better  chance  to  get  drunk,  they  are  a  curse  rather 
than  a  blessing. 

Now  in  order  that  leisure  may  be  employed  in  ways  that  are  Need  of  cui- 
not  only  harmless  but  also  contribute  to  human  betterment, 
the  child  needs  a  culture  looking  toward  the  development  of  sure 
interests  and  capacities  that  will  afford  a  fruitful  as  well  as  an 
agreeable  use  of  whatever  free  time  the  fortunes  of  life  may 
place  at  his  disposal.  It  has  already  been  noted  that  children 
need  to  be  taught  to  play.  The  free  intercourse  of  men  in 
society,  their  athletic  sports,  their  social  entertainments,  their 
intellectual  and  artistic  diversions,  all  need  to  be  determined 
by  taste  and  a  sense  of  relative  value  for  the  total  aim  of  living. 
In  order  that  this  may  be  the  case,  the  child  should  be  led  to 
expect  from  sport  something  more  than  amusement,  and  to  feel 
uncomfortable  unless  he  gets  it.  The  study  of  the  humanities, 
of  the  arts  and  the  sciences  should  continually  react  upon  the 
judgment  as  to  what  pursuits  are  most  desirable  for  leisure.  In 
order  that  this  result  may  be  brought  about,  the  independent 
activities  of  the  school,  from  which  the  social  occupations  of 
leisure  take  their  origin,  should  constantly  be  affected  by  the 
school  studies,  and  should  affect  them  in  turn. 

When  we  reflect  upon  the  occupations  of  leisure  in  the  United  Tendency  of 
States,  we  are  struck  not  only  with  their  diversity  and  the  aim- 


lessness  of  many,  but  also  with  the  fact  that  their  general  char- 

acter tends  toward  the  better.    The  growth  of  travel,  the  grad-     improve  b 

ual  disappearance  of  gambling  and  mere  "sporting,"  and  of  the 


568  Principles  of  Education 

more  brutal  athletic  sports,  the  development  of  the  distinction 
between  the  amateur  and  the  professional  in  sport,  and  the 
constant  reaction  of  the  ideals  of  the  former  upon  the  practices 
of  the  latter,  the  growth  of  interest  and  of  taste  in  the  drama 
and  in  music,  the  rise  of  art,  the  establishment  of  museums 
of  all  sorts,  the  spread  of  libraries  and  of  reading,  the  growth 
of  club  life  that  more  and  more  represents  culture  and  public 
service  as  well  as  mere  entertainment,  the  development  of  a 
great  system  of  parks,  from  those  preserving  the  wild  grandeur 
of  the  mountain  to  such  as  are  the  breathing  places  of  the  city, 
the  creation  of  playgrounds,  gymnasiums,  and  baths,  the  ap- 
pearance of  such  societies  as  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation, all  these  and  many  other  changes  mark  the  introduction 
of  an  epoch  when  the  art  of  spending  one's  time  nobly  will  not 
be  confined  to  a  privileged  class.  Many  of  the  new  attractions 
are,  in  the  fashion  of  the  day,  condemned  as  degeneracy, 
whereas  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  represent  merely  the  forms 
which  the  higher  intellectual,  social,  and  artistic  life  takes 
The  democ-  when  it  spreads  to  the  masses.  The  newspapers,  with  their 
ratizmg  of  sensations  and  their  somewhat  cheap  science  and  art,  the  popu- 

culture  and 

the  vulgar-  lar  novel,  the  commonplace  drama,  are  the  product  of  the  de- 
mocratization of  culture,  bringing  with  it,  on  the  one  hand,  an 
enormous  demand  for  cultural  products,  and,  on  the  other, 
vulgarizing  to  some  extent  the  standards  of  taste. 

Democratic         Nevertheless,  we  may  hope  that  the  democratization  of 

aT^basis    culture  vulgarizes  standards  only  to  elevate  them,  and  that  the 

for  ad-        overproduction  of  culture  material  will  work,  as  overproduction 

the  higher    usually  does,  to  produce  variety,  to  enable  selection,  and  thus 

culture        to  promote  progress.     This  modern  movement  may  not  only 

extend  the  higher  enjoyments  of  leisure  to  the  masses,  but  in 

the  long  run  may  bring  forward  new  excellences.     It  is  not  at 

all  unlikely  that  the  further  growth  of  the  arts  of  leisure  depends 

very  considerably  upon  their  ceasing  to  be  the  exclusive  prop- 


Liberal  and  Vocational  Education  569 

erty  of  a  privileged  class.  Certain  it  is  that  the  ideals,  the 
interests,  and  the  needs  of  life  of  the  democracy  have  con- 
tributed to  the  creators  of  science,  art,  ethical  ideals,  and  the 
form  of  social  intercourse  an  extraordinary  amount  of  inspira- 
tion and  of  new  material. 

The  work  of  selecting  this  material  and  of  purifying  and  Need  that 
exalting  popular  taste  must  be  done  very  largely  by  the  school. 
The  popular  education  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  respons-  puriiy  cul- 
ible  in  great  measure  for  the  democratization  of  culture.  The 
popular  education  of  the  twentieth  century  should  strive  toward 
its  purification.  After  creation  comes  selection,  after  origin- 
ality arises  taste,  and  judgment  should  be  the  successor  of 
imagination.  While  the  creative  forces  of  democratic  life, 
far  from  having  spent  their  force,  have  in  reality  only  begun 
to  evince  their  possibilities,  nevertheless,  it  is  high  time  for  the 
selective  agencies  to  be  set  in  motion  more  vigorously.  The 
salvation  of  the  creative  work  of  the  future  lies  in  the  guidance 
of  the  critical  work  of  to-day. 

Thus  education  in  a  democracy  means  a  vocational  training  summary 
for  each  and  liberal  culture  for  all.  So  far  as  liberal  culture  is 
concerned,  it  means,  first  of  all,  that  training  which  will  ensure 
to  each  as  much  flexibility,  or  power  of  readjustment,  as  his 
native  endowment  permits.  Thus  he  is  given  his  largest  pos- 
sible measure  of  mastery  over  his  vocation,  of  leadership  in  it, 
and  of  power  to  correlate  it  with  the  mass  of  activities  of  social 
life.  The  highest  training  in  the  vocation  leads  inevitably 
beyond  the  vocation.  It  leads  first  into  those  sciences  whii  h 
give  principles  that  underlie  not  only  the  one,  but  also  very 
many  vocations.  It  leads  further  into  social  knowledge, 
judgment,  and  skill,  without  which  effectiveness  in  the  vocation 
as  well  as  general  participation  in  the  common  institutional 
activities  of  society  is  impossible.  Lastly,  it  leads  into  those 
phases  of  culture  that  have  been  and  still  are  pursued  primarily 


570  Principles  of  Education 

for  their  own  sake,  because  not  only  the  general  organization 
and  the  ideals  of  society,  but  also  the  character  of  the  vocations 
of  men,  are  continually  modified  and  recreated  by  this  culture. 
Liberal  education  cannot,  therefore,  be  separated  from  the 
vocation.  It  finds  what  is,  perhaps,  its  most  important  func- 
tion in  liberalizing  the  calling,  exalting  it,  making  it  masterful 
and  noble.  It  can  stamp  out  the  disease  of  mere  commercial- 
ism, and  substitute  the  health  of  public  service  that  is  worthy 
of  its  reward.  On  the  other  hand,  it  needs  the  vocation  to 
save  it  from  vagaries,  eccentricities,  and  trivialities,  to  preserve 
for  it  a  sense  of  relative  values,  and  to  bring  it  into  that  integral 
relation  with  life  through  which  alone  the  products  of  men  can 
survive.  For  life  has  many  aims,  and  in  the  long  run  each 
exacts  its  appropriate  service. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

(The  references  given  in  the  footnotes  will  suggest  a  large  amount  of 
collateral  reading.  The  following  bibliography  repeats  many  of  these. 
There  are,  however,  some  additions,  and  in  general  the  list  is  intended 
to  include  such  references  as  might  constitute  a  working  basis  for  a  study 
of  the  various  topics  considered  in  the  text.  The  aim  has  been  to  give  at 
most  only  a  few  references  on  each  large  topic  considered.) 

SECTION  i.  For  a  statement  of  various  historic  aims  of  education, 
Monroe,  Text  Book  in  the  History  of  Education.  For  modern  idealistic 
statements  of  the  aim  of  education,  Rosenkranz,  Philosophy  of  Education, 
Part  I ;  Harris,  Psychologic  Foundations  of  Education,  Ch.  XXXVI. 

SECTION  2.  For  modern  statements  of  the  aim  of  efficiency,  Spencer, 
Education;  Butler,  The  Meaning  of  Education;  Dewey,  Ethical  Prin- 
ciples Underlying  Education;  O'Shea,  Education  as  Adjustment,  Part  II ; 
Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  Ill ;  Eliot,  Education  for  Efficiency; 
Rudiger,  The  Principles  of  Education,  Chs.  III-V.  Efficiency  is  given  a 
somewhat  idealistic  statement  by  Home,  Philosophy  of  Education,  Ch. 
VII. 

SECTION  3.  For  a  discussion  of  the  mechanism  of  life,  Loeb,  Dynamics 
of  Living  Matter;  Morgan,  Evolution  and  Adaptation,  Ch.  IX  ;  Verworn, 
General  Physiology.  Vitalism  is  dealt  with  in  the  latter  reference,  pp. 
41-46.  Teleology  as  contrasted  with  mechanism  in  living  beings  is  well 
treated  by  Ward,  Naturalism  and  Agnosticism,  Part  II,  especially  Lectures 
IX  and  X;  Fullerton,  Metaphysics,  Chs.  XV  and  XVI ;  Harris,  Psy- 
chologic Foundations  of  Education,  Chs.  XX  and  XXI ;  Pearson,  Grammar 
of  Science,  Ch.  IX. 

SECTION  4.  For  a  discussion  of  geologic  changes  that  have  affected  life 
consult  the  historical  part  of  any  standard  geology,  as  those  of  LeConte 
or  Dana.  Chamberlain  and  Salisbury,  Geology,  Ch.  XI,  show  how 
geologic  conditions  of  life  are  affected  by  the  products  of  living  beings 
themselves.  For  reactions  to  representative  stimuli,  Jennings,  Behavior 
of  the  Lower  Organisms,  pp.  296-298.  For  higher  environments,  Kirk- 
patrick,  Genetic  Psychology,  pp.  354-367  ',  Swift,  Mind  in  the  Making, 
Ch.  X ;  Calderwood,  Evolution  and  Man's  Place  in  Nature;  Lankester, 


572  Principles  of  Education 

The  Kingdom  of  Man.  For  the  variability  of  man's  environment,  Fiske, 
Outlines  of  Cosmic  Philosophy,  Vol.  II,  Chs.  XX  and  XXI ;  Spencer, 
Principles  of  Biology,  Part  I,  Chs.  IV-VI. 

SECTION  5.  For  growth  as  producing  lack  of  adjustment,  Minot,  Age, 
Growth,  and  Death;  Spencer,  Principles  of  Biology,  Part  II,  Chs.  I-V ; 
Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  XXIII.  For  the  effects  of  habit, 
James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  IV  ;  Halleck,  Education  of  the  Central 
Nervous  System,  Chs.  II  and  VI.  For  economic  and  social  illustrations  of 
growth  toward  maladjustment,  Mai  thus,  Law  of  Population;  Giddings, 
Democracy  and  Empire,  Ch.  V,  The  Costs  of  Progress. 

SECTION  6.  For  the  function  of  reproduction  and  life  cycles  Geddes 
and  Thompson,  The  Evolution  of  Sex;  Jordan  and  Kellogg,  Evolution  and 
Animal  Life,  Chs.  XII  and  XVI.  For  various  kinds  of  adaptations, 
Morgan,  Evolution  and  Adaptation,  Chs.  I  and  X-XII. 

SECTION  7.  For  the  utility  of  a  period  of  infancy,  Fiske,  The  Meaning 
of  Infancy;  Butler,  The  Meaning  of  Education;  Chamberlain,  The  Child, 
A  Study  in  the  Evolution  of  Man,  Ch.  I ;  Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of 
Child  Study,  Ch.  I.  For  imperfect  and  deferred  instincts,  James,  Prin- 
ciples of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXIV ;  Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of  Child 
Study,  Ch.  III.  For  the  nervous  mechanism  of  higher  vertebrates  and  of 
infants,  Donaldson,  The  Growth  of  the  Brain;  Kirkpatrick,  Genetic  Psy- 
chology, Chs.  II  and  VI;  Loeb,  Comparative  Physiology  of  the  Brain  and 
Comparative  Psychology;  Swift,  Mind  in  the  Making,  Ch.  VII. 

SECTION  8.  For  the  utility  of  not  inheriting  acquired  characters,  James, 
Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXVIII ;  Ball,  Are  the  Effects  of  Use  In- 
herited ?  For  a  resume  of  the  evidence  as  to  such  inheritance,  Wallace, 
Darwinism,  Ch.  XIV;  Thompson,  Heredity,  Ch.  VII.  For  various 
theories  concerning  the  origin  and  character  of  variation,  Kellogg,  Dar- 
winism To-day,  Chs.  VIII-XI.  For  the  theory  of  organic  selection, 
Baldwin,  Development  and  Evolution. 

SECTION  9.  For  the  part  of  heredity  in  furnishing  the  basis  for  educa- 
tion, Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms,  Chs.  XVI  and  XVII ; 
Kirkpatrick,  Genetic  Psychology,  Ch.  V ;  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution, 
Chs.  IV  and  V.  The  extent  of  hereditary  influence  is  well  brought  out  by 
Thorndike,  Educational  Psychology,  Chs.  V  and  VI ;  Thorndike,  Measure- 
ments of  Twins,  Ch.  I,  and  Conclusion.  Other  well-known  studies  of  hered- 
ity are  Galton,  Hereditary  Genius;  Woods,  Mental  and  Moral  Heredity  in 
Royalty;  Dugdale,  The  Jukes. 

SECTION  10.     For  the  conception  of  social  heredity,  Baldwin,  Mental 


Bibliography  573 

Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  Ch.  II ;  Patten,  The 
New  Basis  of  Civilization,  Ch.  II.  For  the  rise  of  social  heredity,  Gid- 
dings,  Principles  of  Sociology,  Book  III,  Ch.  II ;  Sumner,  Folkways, 
Ch.  I.  Sumner  gives  an  elaborate  survey  of  basic  social  customs. 

SECTION  n.  On  the  inheritance  of  the  undesirable,  Swift,  Mind 
the  Making,  Ch.  II ;  Hall,  Adolescence,  Ch.  V.  On  the  varieties  of  in-^ 
stinctive  expression,  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XXIV.  On  the 
theory  of  the  emotions,  ibid.,  Ch.  XXV.  On  the  utility  of  emotional 
expressions,  Dewey,  Ethical  Principles  Underlying  Education.  On  the 
control  of  bad  tendencies,  Keith,  Elementary  Education,  Ch.  VII ; 
Thorndike,  Psychology,  Ch.  XII ;  Hall,  Youth,  Chs.  VII  and  XII ; 
Bain,  Education  as  a  Science,  pp.  66-67,  72~?6,  100-118.  On  education 
in  inhibition,  O'Shea,  Dynamic  Factors  in  Education,  Chs.  I-V. 

SECTION  12.  For  the  psychical  conditions  that  give  rise  to  society, 
McDougall,  Social  Psychology;  Ribot,  Psychology  of  the  Emotions,  Part  II, 
Ch.  VIII.  On  the  evolution  of  parental  care,  Fiske,  From  Nature  to  God; 
Sutherland,  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral  Instinct,  Vol.  I ;  Letourneau, 
VEvolution  de  ^Education;  Kropotkin,  Mutual  Aid.  On  imitation  in 
animals,  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  pp.  149  and  191  et  seq.;  Kirk- 
patrick,  Genetic  Psychology,  pp.  101,  123-126;  Washburn,  The  Animal 
Mind,  p.  237  et  seq.;  Morgan,  Animal  Behavior,  Ch.  V.  On  imitation 
among  men,  Tarde,  Social  Laws;  Ross,  Social  Psychology;  Baldwin, 
Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes,  Ch.  XII  and  Social  and 
Ethical  Interpretations,  Part  I ;  Giddings,  Principles  of  Sociology,  pp. 
100-116,  and  Part  II,  Ch.  II. 

SECTION  13.  For  the  reaction  of  self -consciousness  on  education, 
Vincent,  The  Social  Mind  and  Education,  Ch.  IV.  For  early  conscious 
efforts  at  education,  Letourneau,  I' Evolution  de  V Education;  Chamberlain, 
The  Child  in  Folk  Thought,  Ch.  XIII ;  Webster,  Primitive  Secret  Societies, 
Ch.  IV  ;  Hall,  Adolescence,  Ch.  XIII.  For  the  effect  of  religion  on  social 
stability,  Kidd,  Social  Evolution,  Ch.  V ;  LeBon,  Psychology  of  Peoples, 
Book  IV,  Ch.  II.  For  the  education  of  early  civilizations  and  the  rise 
of  the  school,  Laurie,  Historical  Survey  of  Pre-Christian  Education; 
Davidson,  History  of  Education,  Ch.  IV. 

SECTION  14.  For  the  value  of  education  as  a  means  of  social  control, 
Ross,  Social  Control,  Ch.  XIV;  Webster,  Primitive  Secret  Societies, 
Ch.  VII.  For  the  importance  of  exploitation  as  a  stage  in  progress. 
Gumplowicz,  Outlines  of  Sociology,  especially  Part  III;  Giddings,  De- 
scriptive and  Historical  Sociology,  pp.  414-432;  Sumner,  Folkways,  Ch.  VI ; 


574  Principles  of  Education 

Mallock,  Aristocracy  and  Evolution,  Book  II,  Ch.  II.  For  the  effect  of 
social  conditions  on  natural  selection,  Jordan,  The  Blood  of  the  Nation; 
Huxley,  Evolution  and  Ethics  ;  Fiske,  The  Destiny  of  Man,  Chs.  XII- 

XIV  ;  Lankester,  The  Kingdom  of  Man;  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution, 
Ch.  XVI. 

f      .-•     SECTION  15.     On  the  general  relation  of  psychology  to  education  and 
•'  on  the  method  of  individual  development,  Munsterberg,  Psychology  and 
the  Teacher,  Chs.  XI-XIV ;   Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study, 
Ch.  I ;  James,  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology. 

SECTION  16.  On  the  dependence  of  intelligence  on  heredity  compare 
references  on  Section  9,  and  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  Chs.  IV  and 

XV  ;   Morgan,  Animal  Behavior,  Ch.  XV.     On  the  principle  of  recapitu- 
/          lation,  Kirkpatrick,  Genetic  Psychology,  Ch.  XI ;  Baldwin,  Mental  Devel- 
opment, Methods  and  Processes,  Ch.  I ;  Fouillee,  Education  from  a  National 
Standpoint,  Book  III,  Ch.  I. 

SECTION  17.  On  selection  in  racial  and  individual  development,  Kirk- 
patrick, Genetic  Psychology,  pp.  348-354.  On  kinds  of  selection,  Baldwin, 
Mental  Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  p.  548.  On  selec- 
tion in  individual  development,  Judd,  Genetic  Psychology  for  Teachers, 
Ch.  IV  ;  Washburn,  Animal  Mind,  Sections  85-86.  On  selection  in  con- 
scious learning,  Thorndike,  Psychology,  Chs.  XVII  and  XX. 

SECTION  18.  On  the  function  of  consciousness,  Angell,  Psychology, 
Ch.  Ill ;  Royce,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  Ch.  II ;  King,  Psychology  of 
Child  Development,  Chs.  III-V ;  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  Chs. 
XIV-XVII;  Miller,  Psychology  of  Thinking,  Ch.  IV;  Kirkpatrick, 
Genetic  Psychology,  Ch.  VII ;  Washburn,  The  Animal  Mind,  Ch.  XII. 

SECTION  19.  On  the  process  of  forming  habits,  Swift,  Mind  in  the 
Making,  Ch.  VI ;  James,  Talks  to  Teachers,  Ch.  VIII.  On  consciousness 
and  habit  forming,  Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  VII ;  Thorndike, 
Principles  of  Teaching,  Ch.  XIV  ;  Rowe,  Habit  Formation,  Ch.  VII.  On 
consciousness  and  the  reorganization  of  habits,  ibid.,  Ch.  XI ;  Judd, 
Genetic  Psychology  for  Teachers,  Ch.  II.  On  habits  as  a  basis  for  readjust- 
ment, Rowe,  Habit  Formation,  Ch.  XII ;  Bagley,  The  Educative  Process, 
Chs.  X  and  XIII ;  Royce,  Outlines  of  Psychology,  Ch.  X  ;  also  references 
to  Sections  33  and  34. 

SECTION  20.  On  early  ideas  of  recapitulation  in  education,  Lessing, 
The  Education  of  the  Human  Race;  Froebel,  The  Education  of  Man,  Ch.  I. 
On  the  biological  law  of  recapitulation,  with  exceptions  thereto,  Marshall, 
Biological  Essays  and  Addresses;  Baldwin,  Mental  Development,  Methods 


Bibliography  575 

and  Processes,  pp.  20-35.  Jordan  and  Kellogg,  Evolution  and  Animal 
Life,  Ch.  XIV. 

SECTION  21.  On  recapitulation  according  to  the  faculties  with  educa- 
tional applications,  Rosenkranz,  Philosophy  of  Education,  Part  II,  Chs.  IV 
to  VII.  On  the  time  of  appearance  of  various  instincts,  Kirkpatrick, 
Fundamentals  of  Child  Study,  Chs.  VI-XIII.  On  the  educational  im- 
portance of  knowing  this  time,  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch. 
XXIV.  On  the  value  of  complete  recapitulation,  Hall,  Adolescence, 
Preface.  On  epochs  in  childhood  as  recapitulatory,  Bagley,  The  Educative 
Process,  Ch.  XII ;  Chamberlain,  The  Child,  A  Study  in  the  Evolution  of 
Man,  Chs.  Ill  and  IV. 

SECTION  22.  On  the  culture  epoch  theory  and  concentration,  De- 
Garmo,  Herbart  and  the  Herbartians,  Part  II,  Chs.  Ill  and  IV  ;  Van  Liew, 
First  Herbart  Year  Book,  The  Culture  Epoch  Theory ;  Vincent,  The  Social 
Mind  and  Education,  Chs.  III-V.  For  criticism  of  the  application  of  the 
idea  to  education,  Lange,  Apperception,  Part  II.  On  special  applications 
of  the  idea  of  concentration  involving  in  a  measure  the  culture  epoch 
idea,  Parker,  The  Theory  of  Concentration  ;  Dewey,  The  School  and  Society  ; 
McMuny,  General  Method,  Ch.  IV. 

SECTION  23.  On  the  meaning  of  learning  as  contrasted  with  accustom- 
ing or  organic  adaptation,  Hobhouse,  Mind  in  Evolution,  Ch.  V.  On 
accustoming  as  selective  learning,  Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organ- 
isms, pp.  345-349;  Morgan,  Evolution  and  Adaptation,  pp.  12-15,  377- 
379.  On  kinds  of  learning,  Kirkpatrick,  Genetic  Psychology,  Ch.  X. 

SECTION  24.  On  the  relation  between  affection  and  sensation,  Titch- 
ener,  A  Text  Book  of  Psychology,  pp.  223-264.  On  the  evolution  of 
feeling,  Stanley,  The  Evolutionary  Psychology  of  Feeling.  On  the  trans- 
ference of  feeling  from  one  to  a  related  stimulus,  Ziehen,  Introduction 
to  the  Study  of  Physiological  Psychology,  Ch.  IX  ;  Ribot,  The  Psychology 
of  the  Emotions,  Ch.  XII ;  Jennings,  Behavior  of  the  Lower  Organisms, 
pp.  289-292.  On  the  conditions  of  feeling,  Angell,  Psychology,  Ch.  XIV ; 
Judd,  Psychology,  pp.  192-212  ;  Marshall,  Pleasure,  Pain,  and  ^Esthetics, 
Chs.  IV  and  V.  On  the  function  of  feeling  hi  education,  Munsterberg, 
Psychology  and  the  Teacher,  Ch.  XXI. 

SECTION  25.  For  an  analysis  of  perception  which  indicates  the  com- 
plexity and  variability  of  the  factors  that  determine  it,  Judd,  Psychology, 
Ch.  VI ;  Stratton,  Experimental  Psychology  and  Culture,  Chs.  V-VIII ; 
Witmer,  Analytical  Psychology,  Chs.  I-IV  ;  Binet,  Psychology  of  Reasoning. 

SECTION  26.    On  the  factors  in  conscious  learning,  James,  Principles  of 


576  Principles  of  Education 

Psychology,  Ch.  XXII ;  Galton,  Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty,  pp.  83- 
114;  Miller,  Psychology  of  Thinking,  Chs.  VTII-XII ;  Dewey,  Studies 
in  Logical  Theory,  Chs.  I-IV ;  Baldwin,  Development  and  Evolution, 
Ch.  XVII ;  Pillsbury,  Psychology  of  Reasoning;  Titchener,  Experimental 
Psychology  of  the  Thought  Processes. 

SECTION  27.  On  the  development  and  use  of  the  image  and  the  concept, 
Ribot,  Essay  on  the  Creative  Imagination;  Kirkpatrick,  Genetic  Psychology, 
Chs.  IX  and  X ;  Miller,  Psychology  of  Thinking,  Chs.  XIV  and  XV ; 
Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Chs.  VIII-X.  On  the  construction  of 
memories,  Stratton,  Experimental  Psychology  and  Culture,  Chs.  IX  and  X  ; 
Miinsterberg,  On  the  Witness  Stand,  The  Memory  of  the  Witness.  On 
logical  memorizing,  James,  Principles  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XVI ;  McMurry, 
How  to  Study,  Ch.  VII.  On  the  laws  of  association,  James,  Principles 
of  Psychology,  Ch.  XIV;  Thorndike,  Psychology,  Chs.  XIII-XVI. 

SECTION  28.  On  the  nature  and  development  of  judgment,  Miller, 
Psychology  of  Thinking,  Chs.  XXI  and  XXII ;  Judd,  Psychology,  Ch.  XI ; 
Dewey,  Studies  in  Logical  Theory,  Ch.  VIII;  Baldwin,  Thought  and  Things, 
especially  Vol.  II,  Chs.  I  and  II ;  Hobhouse,  The  Theory  of  Knowledge, 
Ch.  XI. 

SECTION  29.  On  the  general  problem  and  method  of  cultivating  the 
reason,  Thorndike,  The  Principles  of  Teaching,  Ch.  X ;  Miller,  Psychol- 
ogy of  Thinking,  Chs.  X,  XIII,  XVII,  XIX-XXII ;  Home,  Psychological 
Principles  of  Education,  Part  II ;  James,  Talks  to  Teachers,  Chs.  IX  to 
XIV ;  DeGarmo,  Principles  of  Secondary  Education,  Processes  of  In- 
struction. 

SECTION  30.  On  the  methods  of  storing  the  mind  with  effective  ideas, 
McMurry,  The  Method  of  the  Recitation;  DeGarmo,  Essentials  of  Method; 
Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Part  VI ;  Lange,  Apperception;  Findlay, 
Principles  of  Class  Teaching,  Section  IV ;  Spencer,  Education,  Ch.  II ; 
Tompkins,  Philosophy  of  Teaching;  Herbart,  Science  of  Education,  Book 
II ;  Hamilton,  The  Recitation;  Fitch,  Lectures  on  Teaching,  Ch.  V. 

SECTION  31.  On  training  the  rational  attitudes,  Judd,  Genetic  Psy- 
chology for  Teachers,  Chs.  IV  and  V  ;  McMurry,  How  to  Study;  Earhart, 
Teaching  Children  to  Study.  On  the  adjustment  of  the  program  to  pro- 
mote study,  Bagley,  School  Management,  Ch.  XIV ;  Jones,  Teaching 
Children  to  Study;  Button  and  Snedden,  Administration  of  Public  Educa- 
tion in  the  United  States,  Ch.  XIX.  On  the  problem  and  interest  in  con- 
nection with  individual  effort,  Dewey,  Interest  as  Related  to  the  Training 
of  the  Will. 


Bibliography  577 

SECTION  32.  On  Herbart's  rejection  of  the  faculty  theory  and  of  dis- 
cipline of  the  faculties,  Herbart,  Text  Book  in  Psychology,  Part  II,  Chs.  I 
and  VI.  On  the  attitude  of  the  Herbartians  on  the  question,  Hinsdale, 
The  Dogma  of  Formal  Discipline,  Ed.  Rev.,  Sept.,  1894.  For  a  review 
of  earlier  American  opinions  on  the  topic,  Youmans,  Culture  Demanded 
by  Modern  Life.  For  a  collection  of  latter-day  opinions  of  educators, 
Thorndike,  Educational  Psychology,  Ch.  VIII ;  Riidiger,  Principles  of 
Education,  Ch.  VI. 

SECTION  33.  For  reviews  of  experimental  work  on  formal  discipline, 
Thorndike,  Educational  Psychology,  Ch.  VIII ;  articles  by  Angell,  Judd, 
and  Pillsbury,  Ed.  Rev.,  June,  1908;  by  Delabarre,  Henderson,  and  Home, 
Education,  May,  1909  ;  Bennett,  Formal  Discipline ;  Riidiger,  Principles 
of  Education,  Ch.  VI ;  Heck,  Mental  Discipline  and  Educational  Values. 

SECTION  34.  For  the  educational  bearings  of  the  present  idea  on  formal 
discipline,  in  addition  to  references  above,  O'Shea,  Education  as  Adjust- 
ment, Chs.  XIII  and  XIV ;  Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  XIII ; 
Meiklejohn,  Is  Mental  Training  a  Myth?  Ed.  Rev.,  Vol.  XXXVH. 

SECTION  35.  On  the  general  function  and  importance  of  imitation, 
Tarde,  The  Laws  of  Imitation,  Chs.  I  and  II ;  Baldwin,  Mental  Develop- 
ment, Methods  and  Processes,  Ch.  XVI ;  Stratton,  Experimental  Psy- 
chology and  Culture,  Ch.  XI ;  Cooley,  Human  Nature  and  the  Social 
Order,  Ch.  II. 

SECTION  36.  On  the  psycho-physiological  mechanism  of  imitation, 
Baldwin,  Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes,  Chs.  VI  and  IX ; 
Sidis,  The  Psychology  of  Suggestion,  Chs.  I-V  ;  Munsterberg,  Psychology 
and  the  Teacher,  Ch.  XIX. 

SECTION  37.  On  the  mass  action,  feeling,  and  thought  of  social  groups 
because  of  imitation,  LeBon,  The  Crowd;  Ross,  Social  Psychology,  Chs. 
I-V.  On  the  effect  of  imitation  on  the  development  of  mental  power, 
Baldwin,  Mental  Development,  Methods  and  Processes,  Chs.  X-XV ; 
Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study,  Ch.  VIII.  On  the  reaction  of 
imitation  upon  the  consciousness  of  self  and  of  others  and  upon  character, 
Baldwin,  Mental  Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations;  Royce, 
Outlines  of  Psychology,  Ch.  XII ;  Mezes,  Ethics,  Descriptive  and  Explan- 
atory, Ch.  VII. 

SECTION  38.  On  the  general  mechanism  of  imitation  in  society,  Tarde, 
The  Laws  of  Imitation;  Ross,  Social  Psychology;  Giddings,  Principles 
of  Sociology,  Book  IV,  Ch.  III.  For  the  reaction  of  the  individual  on 
social  practice  and  the  various  sanctions  that  control  imitation,  Baldwin, 

2P 


578  Principles  of  Education 

Mental  Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  Book  I,  Parts  II, 
III,  and  IV.  Baldwin  discusses  the  social  mechanism  of  imitation  in 
Book  II  of  the  same  reference. 

SECTION  39.  For  the  general  characteristics  of  early  education,  Laurie, 
Historical  Survey  of  Pre-Christian  Education;  Monroe,  Text  Book  in  the 
History  of  Education,  Chs.  I  and  II ;  Graves,  History  of  Education,  Part  I. 
For  the  evolution  of  rational  education,  Monroe,  Text  Book  in  the  History 
of  Education,  pp.  52-62,  102-120,  351-357,  538-553.  On  rational  educa- 
tion as  comparison  of  traditions,  customs,  etc.,  Sumner,  Folkways,  Ch. 
XIX  ;  Ross,  Foundations  of  Sociology,  Ch.  VIII. 

SECTION  40.  For  the  reaction  of  language  upon  thought,  Noire,  On 
the  Origin  of  Language;  Miiller,  The  Science  of  Thought;  Romanes, 
Mental  Evolution  in  Man,  Chs.  I-V ;  Baldwin,  Mental  Development, 
Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  pp.  128-139;  Morgan,  Psychology  for 
Teachers,  Ch.  VIII ;  Judd,  Psychology,  Ch.  X.  For  the  growth  of  lan- 
guage in  the  race,  Tylor,  Anthropology,  Chs.  IV-VI ;  Starr,  First  Steps  in 
Human  Progress,  Chs.  XVII-XXII ;  Tylor,  Early  History  of  Mankind, 
Chs.  II-VI.  For  the  development  of  language  in  the  child,  Preyer,  The 
Development  of  the  Intellect;  Tracy,  Psychology  of  Childhood,  Ch.  V ; 
Sully,  Studies  of  Childhood,  Ch.  V ;  Kirkpatrick,  Fundamentals  of  Child 
Study,  Ch.  XIII. 

SECTION  41.  For  the  rise  and  effects  of  written  language,  Tylor, 
Anthropology,  Ch.  VI ;  Cooley,  Social  Organization,  Part  II ;  Ward, 
Dynamic  Sociology,  Vol.  II,  pp.  180-189  ;  Barnes,  Studies  in  Education, 
First  Series,  pp.  28-37,  The  Historic  Sense  Among  Primitive  People. 

SECTION  42.  On  the  study  of  language  as  a  basis  for  education,  Laurie, 
Lectures  On  Language,  Lecture  I ;  Hinsdale,  Teaching  the  Language  Arts, 
Ch.  Ill ;  Fitch,  Lectures  On  Teaching,  Ch.  VIII.  On  verbalism  and  its 
dangers,  Quick,  Educational  Reformers,  Chs.  I-III ;  Huxley,  Science  and 
Education,  VI,  Science  and  Culture;  Hall,  Aspects  of  Child  Life  in  Educa- 
tion, The  Contents  of  Children's' Minds  on  Entering  School. 

SECTION  43.  On  the  explanation  and  function  of  play,  Spencer,  Psy- 
chology, Vol.  I,  Section  50,  and  Vol.  II,  Ch.  IX  ;  Groos,  The  Play  of  Ani- 
mals, Chs.  I,  II,  and  V,  and  The  Play  of  Man,  Part  III ;  Baldwin,  Mental 
Development,  Social  and  Ethical  Interpretations,  pp.  139-147  ;  Hall, 
Youth,  Ch.  VI ;  Richter,  Levana,  §§  43-60 ;  Froebel,  The  Education  of 
Man,  §§  30  and  49 ;  Carr,  The  Survival  Values  of  Play,  Univ.  of  Col. 
Publications. 

SECTION  44.     On  the  development  of  the  child's  interest  in  games, 


Bibliography  579 

Kirkpatrick;  Fundamentals  of  Child  Study,  Ch.  IX ;  Croswell,  Amuse- 
ments of  Worcester  School  Children,  Pcd.  Sent.,  Sept.,  1899 ;  McGhec, 
A  Study  of  the  Play  Life  of  Some  South  Carolina  Children,  Fed.  Sem., 
Dec.,  1900  ;  Groos,  The  Play  of  Man,  Parts  I  and  II. 

SECTION  45.  For  play  among  animals,  Groos,  Play  of  Animals,  Chs. 
Ill  and  IV.  For  pkiy  among  primitive  men,  Chamberlain,  The  Child, 
Ch.  II ;  Haddon,  A  Study  of  Man,  Chs.  VIII-XV.  For  play  among  the 
Greeks,  Holm,  History  of  Greece,  Vol.  I,  Ch.  XIX  ;  Davidson,  Education 
of  the  Greek  People,  Ch.  III. 

SECTION  46.  On  the  use  of  play  in  the  school  to-day,  Addams,  Newer 
Ideals  of  Peace,  pp.  174-179;  Scott,  Social  Education,  Chs.  IV-VII ; 
Johnson,  Education  by  Plays  and  Games;  Report  of  the  Committee  of  the 
Play  Ground  Association  of  America  On  a  Normal  Course  in  Play.  On 
the  motivation  of  school  work,  DeGarmo,  Interest  and  Education;  Arnold, 
School  and  Class  Management,  pp.  55-58,  98,  and  Chs.  IX  and  XI ;  Bain, 
Education  as  a  Science,  pp.  60-118. 

SECTION  47.  On  the  educational  function  of  the  various  institutions, 
Horne,  Philosophy  of  Education,  Chs.  I  and  IV  ;  Bagley,  Educative  Process, 
Ch.  II;  Rosenkranz,  Philosophy  of  Education,  §§  131-136  and  260; 
Riidiger,  Principles  of  Education,  Ch.  XIV.  On  the  relation  of  these 
institutions  in  the  education  of  the  child,  Dutton,  Social  Phases  of  Edu- 
cation; Button  and  Snedden,  The  Administration  of  Public  Education  in 
the  United  States,  Ch.  XXXII ;  Hanus,  A  Modern  School,  Ch.  V,  The 
School  and  the  Home.  On  the  relation  of  religious  agencies  to  the  school, 
various  articles  in  Education  and  National  Character,  published  under  the 
direction  of  the  Religious  Education  Association. 

SECTION  48.  For  classifications  of  the  curriculum,  Horne,  Philosophy 
of  Education,  Chs.  IV  and  V  ;  Rudiger,  Principles  of  Education,  Ch.  X  ; 
Vincent,  Social  Mind  and  Education,  Ch.  V  ;  Harris,  Psychologic  Founda- 
tions of  Education;  DeGarmo,  Principles  of  Secondary  Education,  The 
Studies;  Reports  of  the  Committees  of  Ten  and  Fifteen  of  the  N.  E.  A.  on 
Elementary  and  Secondary  Curricula;  Hanus,  Educational  Aims  and  Edu- 
cational Values,  Ch.  III. 

SECTION  49.  On  the  differentiation  of  the  school  in  general,  Monroe, 
Text  Book  in  the  History  of  Education.  On  the  accumulation  of  culture 
and  the  rise  of  the  school,  Letourneau,  /' Evolution  del' Education;  Laurie, 
Historical  Survey  of  Pre-Christian  Education.  On  the  rise  of  esoteric  cults, 
Webster,  Primitive  Secret  Societies,  Chs.  IX  and  X.  On  the  evolution  of 
independent  culture  among  the  Greeks,  Davidson,  Aristotk  and  the  An- 


580  Principles  of  Education 

dent  Educational  Ideals,  Book  II,  Part  II,  and  Book  IV ;  Walden,  The 
Universities  of  Ancient  Greece.  On  the  development  of  secular  culture 
and  national  control  in  the  universities,  Rashdall,  Universities  of  Europe 
in  the  Middle  Ages;  Laurie,  Rise  and  Constitution  of  Universities,  Lecture 
X.  On  similar  progress  in  all  schools,  Paulsen,  German  Education,  Book 
IV,  Ch.  Ill ;  Anderson,  History  of  Common  School  Education,  Chs.  IX, 
XXVII,  and  XXVIII;  Brown,  The  Making  of  Our  Middle  Schools, 
Chs.  X,  XIII,  and  XVI.  On  the  secularization  of  the  schools,  Payne, 
Contributions  to  the  Science  of  Education,  Ch.  XII. 

SECTION  50.  On  the  rise  of  tolerance,  Lecky,  Rationalism  in  Europe, 
Ch.  IV.  On  the  development  of  free  thought  and  speech,  Draper,  Intel- 
lectual Development  of  Europe,  Vol.  II,  Chs.  V-XI ;  White,  History  of 
the  Warfare  of  Science  with  Theology.  On  academic  freedom  in  the  univer- 
sities, Brown,  Academic  Freedom,  Ed.  Rev.,  March,  1900  ;  Draper,  Amer- 
ican Education,  Limits  of  Academic  Freedom;  Jenks,  Citizenship  and  the 
Schools,  Ch.  VI.  On  the  evils  of  state  control  of  schools,  Spencer,  Social 
Statics,  National  Education.  On  the  necessity  of  such  a  control,  Ward, 
Dynamic  Sociology,  Ch.  XIV  ;  Draper,  American  Education,  The  Function 
of  the  State,  and  The  Legal  Basis  of  the  School;  Dutton  and  Snedden,  The 
Administration  of  Pub.  Ed.  in  the  U.S.,  Chs.  III-IV.  On  the  need  of 
independence  in  the  schools,  Chancellor,  Motives,  Values,  and  Ideals  in 
Education,  Ch.  VII. 

SECTION  51.  On  the  school  as  isolated  from  the  service  of  society, 
Swift,  Mind  in  the  Making,  Ch.  IX ;  Dewey,  The  School  and  Society, 
Ch.  Ill ;  Spencer,  Education,  Ch.  I.  On  the  division  of  authority  be- 
tween educators  and  lay  boards,  Dutton  and  Snedden,  The  Administra- 
tion of  Pub.  Ed.  in  the  U.S.,  Ch.  VII,  also  Chs.  IX  and  X  ;  Chancellor, 
Our  Schools,  Their  Administration  and  Supervision,  Ch.  II ;  Draper, 
American  Education,  Unsettled  Questions,  and  The  Teacher  and  the  Position. 
On  compulsory  education,  Draper,  American  Education,  Illiteracy  and 
Compulsory  Attendance;  Dutton  and  Snedden,  The  Administration  of 
Pub.  Ed.  in  the  U.S.,  Ch.  XXVII.  On  the  function  of  the  school  in  reli- 
gion and  morals,  Education  and  National  Character,  published  under  the 
direction  of  the  National  Religious  Association;  Sadler,  Moral  Instruction 
and  Training  in  the  Schools;  Palmer,  Ethical  and  Moral  Instruction  in  the 
Schools;  Home,  The  Psychological  Principles  of  Education,  Parts  IV  and  V. 

SECTION  52.  On  social  selection  by  the  school,  Thorndike,  Educational 
Psychology,  Ch.  IX;  Rudiger,  Principles  of  Education,  pp.  25-28.  On 
infanticide  and  its  reasons,  Sutherland,  Origin  and  Growth  of  the  Moral 


Bibliography  58 1 

Instinct,  Ch.  VI ;  Westermarck,  The  Evolution  of  Morality,  Ch.  XVII. 
On  adolescent  examinations,  Webster,  Primitive  Secret  Societies,  Chs. 
II,  III,  and  VI.  On  the  need  of  differentiating  selection  to-day,  Flexner, 
The  American  College,  Chs.  Ill  and  IV  ;  Hanus,  A  Modern  School,  Ch.  I. 

SECTION  53.  On  the  education  of  the  pre-adolescent  and  the  adoles- 
cent, Hall,  Youth,  Ch.  I  et  seq.;  Bagley,  The  Educative  Process,  Ch.  XII ; 
Boone,  Science  of  Education,  pp.  278-282,  and  Ch.  XXVI.  On  the  read- 
justment of  the  relation  between  secondary  and  elementary  education, 
Draper,  American  Education,  Education  for  Efficiency;  Dewey,  The  Edu- 
cational Situation;  Button  and  Snedden,  The  Administration  of  Pub.  Ed. 
in  the  U.S.,  Ch.  XX ;  Hanus,  A  Modern  School,  Chs.  Ill  and  IV.  On  the 
function  of  secondary  education,  E.  E.  Brown,  The  Making  of  Our  Middle 
Schools,  Chs.  XVII,  XVIII,  and  XX  ;  J.  F.  Brown,  The  American  High 
School,  Chs.  I-II ;  Hanus,  Educational  Aims  and  Educational  Values, 
Chs.  II,  IV,  and  V;  Butler,  The  Meaning  of  Education,  The  Function  of 
Secondary  Education;  Riidiger,  The  Principles  of  Education,  Ch.  XIII. 

SECTION  54.  On  the  school  as  determining  social  progress,  Fouillee, 
Education  from  a  National  Standpoint,  Book  I ;  Davidson,  History  of 
Education,  Ch.  I ;  Ward,  Pure  Sociology,  Ch.  XX.  On  experiment  in 
Education,  Thorndike,  Educational  Psychology,  Ch.  XV ;  Swift,  Mind 
in  the  Making,  Ch.  VIII. 

SECTION  55.  On  the  rise  of  academic  religion  and  morality,  Hobhouse, 
Morals  in  Evolution,  Vol.  II.  On  academic  morality,  Dewey  and  Tufts, 
Ethics,  Chs.  VII,  IX,  XIII,  and  XIX ;  Hicks,  Stoics  and  Epicureans. 
On  the  rise  of  academic  philosophy,  any  account  of  Greek  philosophy,  as 
Windelband,  History  of  Ancient  Philosophy,  or  Weber,  History  of  Phi- 
losophy. On  the  development  of  academic  science  independently  of  art, 
Whewell,  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  Book  IV,  Ch.  V.  On  the  rise  of 
the  idea  of  art  for  its  own  sake,  Knight,  Philosophy  of  the  Beautiful,  Chs.  I, 
II,  and  IV.  On  present-day  academic  philosophy,  James,  Pragmatism. 

SECTION  56.  On  the  development  of  science  and  its  application  to 
practice,  Ward,  Dynamic  Sociology,  Ch.  XIII.  For  a  sketch  of  modern 
transformations  of  industry,  Wright,  The  Industrial  Evolution  of  the 
United  States.  On  the  elective  system,  Eliot,  University  Administration, 
Ch.  IV:  Flexner,  The  American  College,  Ch.  IV;  Dutton  and  Snedden, 
The  Administration,  of  Pub.  Ed.  in  the  U.S.,  pp.  365-369 ;  Hanus,  A 
Modern  School,  Chs.  HI  and  IX. 

SECTION  57.  On  self-realization  as  the  aim  of  conduct,  Seth.  Principles 
of  Ethics,  Part  II,  Ch.  Ill ;  Mezes,  Ethics,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory, 


582  Principles  of  Education 

Ch.  XV ;  Dewey  and  Tufts,  Ethics,  Ch.  XVIII ;   Small,  Sociology,  Chs. 
XXXI  and  XXXII. 

SECTION  58.  On  the  history  of  the  conception  of  liberal  education, 
Monroe,  Text  Book  in  the  History  of  Education,  pp.  52-61,  267-274,  364- 
370,  451-455,  679-684 ;  Davidson,  Aristotle  and  the  Ancient  Educational 
Ideals,  Part  I,  Ch.  I  and  Appendix  ;  Veblen,  Theory  of  the  Leisure  Class, 
Ch.  XIV.  On  the  liberal  education  of  to-day,  see  references  under  §§  i 
and  2,  and  Huxley,  Science  and  Culture,  A  Liberal  Education  and  Where  to 
Find  It;  Eliot,  Educational  Reform,  What  is  a  Liberal  Education? 
Hadley,  Education  of  the  American  Citizen,  Fundamental  Requirements  in 
School  Education. 

SECTION  59.  On  the  history  of  vocational  training,  Monroe,  Text  Book 
in  the  History  of  Education,  pp.  4-13,  315,  739-744 ;  Dexter,  History  of 
Education  in  the  United  States,  Chs.  XVI-XX ;  Dutton  and  Snedden, 
The  Administration  of  Pub.  Ed.  in  the  U.S.,  Chs.  XXI  and  XXII.  On 
the  rise  of  industrial  education,  MacArthur,  Education  in  Its  Relation  to 
Manual  Industry;  Carlton,  Education  and  Industrial  Evolution;  Hanus, 
Beginnings  in  Industrial  Education;  Ware,  Educational  Foundations  of 
Trade  and  Industry.  On  the  degradation  of  service,  Veblen,  Theory  of 
the  Leisure  Class,  Ch.  I.  On  the  exaltation  of  the  ideal  of  service,  Dewey 
and  Tufts,  Ethics,  pp.  156-157,  514-517.  On  the  growth  of  the  idea  of 
natural  law,  Draper,  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,  Ch.  I. 

SECTION  60.  On  the  idea  of  democracy,  Cooley,  Social  Organization, 
Parts  III  and  IV  ;  Giddings,  Elements  of  Sociology,  Ch.  XXIV  ;  Wilson, 
The  State,  Ch.  XIII.  On  the  function  of  education  in  a  democracy, 
Horace  Mann,  The  Necessity  of  Education  in  a  Republican  Government; 
Butler,  The  Meaning  of  Education,  Democracy  and  Education;  Hadley, 
The  Education  of  the  American  Citizen;  Jenks,  Citizenship  and  the  Schools, 
Chs.  I-V ;  Ward,  Dynamic  Sociology,  Chs.  XIII  and  XIV ;  Monroe, 
Text  Book  in  the  History  of  Education,  Ch.  XIII.  On  the  undesirability 
of  democratic  education,  Mallock,  Aristocracy  and  Evolution,  Book  IV, 
Ch.  III. 

SECTION  61.  On  the  sort  of  education  necessary  in  a  democracy,  Eliot, 
Educational  Reform,  The  Function  of  Education  in  Democratic  Society; 
Giddings,  Democracy  and  Empire,  Chs.  XIII  and  XIV ;  Cubberley, 
Changing  Conceptions  of  Education;  Dewey,  The  Educational  Situation; 
Patten,  The  New  Basis  of  Civilization,  Ch.  VI ;  Dewey  and  Tufts,  Ethics, 
pp.  548-556  ;  Addams,  Democracy  and  Social  Ethics,  Ch.  VI ;  Henderson, 
The  Social  Spirit  in  America,  Chs.  XII-XIV. 


INDEX 


Ability,  foundation  of,  130-143;  general 
and  special,  286-287 ;  determination  of 
relative,  481-485. 

Abstract  habits,  formation  and  use  of, 
157-160,  216-221. 

Abstraction,  value  of,  261. 

Academic  subjects  as  distinguished  from 
practical  ones,  434;  culture  as  discipli- 
nary, 439 ;  culture,  definition  of,  502  ; 
culture,  rise  of,  502-513 ;  culture,  re- 
action against,  513-523;  culture  as 
related  to  utility,  523-533;  culture  as 
liberal  education,  537 ;  issues,  453-454, 
465;  motive,  415-416,  535-536;  fre- 
dom,  rise  of,  451-467;  freedom,  aspects 
of,  452;  freedom,  reasons  for,  462,  475- 
476 ;  freedom,  implications  of,  465-467  ; 
freedom,  dangers  of,  468-469 ;  freedom, 
limitation  of,  469-476;  freedom  as 
necessary  to  freedom  of  pupils,  498-499. 

Academies  as  giving  higher  education,  494 ; 
accustoming  as  compared  with  learning, 
191-194. 

Acquired  characters,  inheritance  of,  73-78; 
96-97,  180;  and  language,  375. 

Action  system,  86-90,  140-143,  215-216. 

Adolescent  exercises,  character  and  func- 
tion of,  116-122,  127-131,  401,  440-441 ; 
as  disciplinary  education,  438-439. 

Adornment  in  primitive  art,  510. 

JEneas  Sylvius  on  the  aim  of  education,  5 

^Esthetic  culture  of  the  Renaissance,  4-7, 
22;  games,  389,  391-392 ;  instincts  back 
of  academic  ideal,  503,  510-511. 

Affective  consciousness,  function  of,  146- 
147,  191,  193,  197 ;  types  of,  192-196. 

Agassiz  and  the  idea  of  recapitulation,  163. 

Age  of  rivalry  in  children,  394,  413,  486- 
487;  of  independence  in  children,  395, 
413-414,  487-488. 

Agencies,  educational,  analysis  of,  429-439. 

Aggregate  idea  in  reasoning,  249-251. 

Aim  of  life  as  feeling,  147 ;  determination 
of,  522-532;  constituents  of,  528. 


Aims  of  education,  1-24, 184-187,  523-533 ; 

of  conscious  education,  124. 
Alternation   of   generations,    function   of, 

56-58. 

Amoeba,  42,  46,  51,  85. 
Amusements  as  occupation  for  leisure,  560. 
Analysis,  conditions  of,  217-218. 
Angell  on  the  function  of  consciousness, 

148,  298;   on  the  conditions  of  feeling, 

197. 

Anger,  control  of,  90-100,  104-105. 
Apperception,  172-173,  184-185, 188,  264- 

265,  291-292. 

Appointment  of  teachers,  466,  460-472. 
Apprenticeship,  405,  431,  447,  489;  decline 
x  of,  542. 
A   priori  ideas  as  elements  in  experience, 

290-291. 

Aristocracy  and  cosmopolitanism,  354. 
Aristocratic  culture  of  Renaissance,  4-7; 

and  play,  300-401 ;    as  discipline,  437- 

439- 
Aristotle  on  aim  of  education,  7;   on  the 

catharsis,  175;    and  ability  to  observe, 

204. 
Arrested  development  and  recapitulation, 

176,  178-180. 
Art  and  play,  308;  of  primitive  men,  510; 

transformed  from  utilitarian  to  academic, 

510-513- 

Articulate  speech,  development  of,  360- 
362. 

Artificial  environment,  30-40.  87. 

Asceticism  as  educational  aim,  2-3;  as 
negation  of  instincts,  102 ;  and  education 
by  play,  401-402 ;  as  academic  attitude, 
510. 

Assignments  for  study,  270-280. 

Association  and  imitation,  323-327. 

Associationists,  200-201. 

Associations,  inborn  versus  acquired,  64- 
70;  formation  of,  144-145.  152-153; 
value  of  accidental,  261-268;  as  logical 
relations,  260. 

Athenian  education  and  play,  390;  roan- 
hood  examination,  481. 


583 


Index 


Attention,  control  of,  209,  239,  254,  271, 
298,  313;  in  imitation,  328-329,  333, 
343-345- 

Attilius,  5. 

Attitude  of  work,  400-410. 

Attitudes,  meaning  and  kinds  of,  211-214, 
239-241,  249,  256;  in  relation  to  the 
content  of  mind,  256-257 ;  culture  of, 
270-282,  284;  and  imitation,  332;  and 
articulate  speech,  362-363. 

Aurelius,   Marcus,  and  academic  indepen- 
dence, 444. 
.Authority,  meaning  and  rise  of,  339~345- 

Avocations  in  relation  to  play,  386;  im- 
portance of,  565;  nature  of,  565-569. 

B 

Bacon  on  the  application  of  science,  8,  19- 
20,  514;  on  idols,  374;  against  final 
causation,  647. 

Bagley  on  effects  of  training,  304-305, 
310-312. 

Bair  on  effects  of  training,  301. 

Baldwin  on  organic  selection,  80-81 ;  on 
social  heredity,  in;  on  dynamogene- 
sis,  149-150;  on  short  cuts,  168;  on 
thought  experimentation,  222;  on  imi- 
tation, 318,  325,  335. 

Ball  on  inheritance  of  acquired  characters, 
76-77. 

Barnard  on  mental  discipline,  293. 

Basedow  and  education  by  play,  403. 

Bergstrom  on  effects  of  training,  300,  306. 

Boethius  and  academic  independence,  444. 

Brahmins  as  learned  caste,  441. 

Butler,  N.  M.,  on  aim  of  education,  18; 
on  meaning  of  infancy,  61 ;  on  indepen- 
dence of  the  endowed  university,  464; 
on  education  in  a  democracy,  552. 


Caesar  and  all-round  ability,  295. 
Capacities,  source  and  kinds  of,  29-31 ;  33- 

34,  36,  40-41,  63,  67,  85-86,  91,  139-143. 
Card  games  in  education,  403. 
Caribs  and  grading  by  ordeals,  481. 
Castes  and  education,  118,  120,  129-131, 

370-371 ;    definition  of,  558. 
Catharsis  as  educational  method,  175-178. 
Cerebral  hemispheres,  function  of,   69-70, 

147-148. 


Ceremonial,  religious,  utility  of,  119,  511. 

Chaldees,  441. 

Character  as  aim  of  education,   14;    as 

helped  by  language,  374. 
Checks  to  destructive   effects   of   reason, 

i2i,  123,^351-352. 
China  and  infanticide,  480. 
Chinese  education,  130,  373,  481 ;  wall,  354. 
Christianity  and  social  environments,  45, 

99 ;    and  education  by  play,  401 ;    and 

academic  independence,  444-445. 
Church  and  education,  430-431 ;  in  control 

of  the  school,   442,  444-445,  448-450; 

rise  of  the  national,  449. 
Cicero,  4;    and  struggle  against  conserva- 
tive culture,  453. 
Circular  activity,  in,  318,  325. 
Class  and  individual  teaching,  280-281. 
Classical  study  as  ideal  education,   4-1 2 ; 

and  formal  discipline,  288-289;   as  test 

of  mental  power,  482. 
Cognitive  consciousness,  function  of,  147, 

IS4-IS7,  198- 

College  as  secondary  school,  490-491,  496. 
Comenius  on  the  aim  of  education,  8-9; 

on  concrete  illustration,  264. 
Commerce  and  spread  of  customs,  355-356. 
Community  consciousness    and  imitation, 

332. 

Competition,  kinds  of,  36-37. 
Composition  and  training  the  reason,  276- 

277. 
Compulsory  education,  466;    reasons  for, 

473-474- 

Concentration  of  studies,  184-189. 

Concepts  as  psychological  and  logical,  226- 
230;  use  of  in  readjustment,  209,  225- 
232,  259-261,  267  ;  importance  of  deriv- 
ing from  the  concrete,  261-264;  and 
language,  359. 

Conceptualism,  358-359. 

Concertations,  403. 

Concrete  illustrations  and  use  of  language, 
377-378. 

Confucianism,  131. 

Consciousness,  function  of,  140-151,  153- 
158. 

Conservatism  of  early  society  and  educa- 
tion, 96-98;  of  school  men,  497,  516; 
of  language,  372-373- 

Conservative  effects  of  habit,  63,  153. 

Constructive  sport,  390-391 ;    work,   278. 

Content  theory  of  mind,  212-213,  290-292. 


Index 


585 


Continuous  ladder  in  American  education 

484. 
Control  of  undesirable  tendencies,  102-108  ; 

by  school  of  curriculum  and  methods  of 

teaching,   463-466,   469;    by  school  of 

appointment  of  teachers,  466,  460-472; 

by  school  of  disposition  of  school  money, 

466,  475 ;  by  lay  boards  of  school  officers, 

460-476. 
Cooperation  as  a  function,  37-39,  88,  100, 

118,  124;   in  games,  393,  395,  419. 
Coordination,  in  nervous  system,  91-95 ; 

of  studies,  186. 

Coover  on  effects  of  special  training,  296. 
Correlation   of  school   and  life,    265-266; 

of  work  and  play  in  the  school,  427. 
Crime  and  education,  552-554. 
Critical  attitude,  212,  257,  266-269,  275- 
Culture,    ideals  of,    2-16;    relation   of  to 

efficiency,  16-24. 

Culture  epoch  theory,  183-189;   292. 
Curiosity,  function  of,  254;  in  games,  300; 

as  school  motive,  413;    as  the  basis  of 

the  academic  ideal,  503. 
Curriculum,  rise  of,  429-430;  problems  of, 

434-439- 

Custom  in  imitation,  344. 
Customary,  as  principle'of  selection,  340. 
Cynicism  in  ethics,  508. 

D 

Dante  on  the  aim  of  education,  7. 

Dark  Ages  and  academic  issues,  453. 

Darwin  and  all-round  ability,  294. 

Deferred  instincts,  64-66,  103 ;  instinctive 
acts,  64-66. 

Denning  characters,  260. 

De  Garmo  on  coordination  of  studies,  186. 

Democracy  and  academic  freedom,  454 ; 
meaning  of,  550;  function  of  education 
in,  550-559 ;  ideal  of  education  in,  560- 
570;  produced  by  man,  554-555- 

Democratic  education,  538-539 ;  and  play, 
404-405,  419-421. 

Democratizing  of  culture,  447,  568-569. 

Des  Cartes  and  esoteric  opinion,  456. 

Destructive  sport,  310. 

Development,  conditions  of  individual, 
139-162;  and  imitation,  357 ;  as  method 
of  teaching,  274;  deficiencies  of  the 
method  of,  278. 

Dewey  on  the  aim  of  education,  21,  23; 


on  the  function  of  emotion,  100-103,  105, 

107  ;  on  social  life  in  the  school,  186-187, 

on  interest  and  the  use  of  problems,  265, 

272. 
Differentiating    selection    by    the    school, 

483-485- 
Diffusion  of  nervous  impulses,  68-71,  90- 

91,144-  152-153- 
Disciplinary   as  contrasted   with   content 

subjects,  434. 
Discipline  in  aristocratic  education,  437- 

439;    question  of  formal,  283-317. 
Discrimination,  effect  of  training  on,  297- 

298;  and  imitation,  331. 
Dispersal,  means  of,  51-52. 
Dissociation  of  movements,  92-93. 
Docility  as  a  selected  trait,  352-353. 
Donaldson  on  central  nervous  system  in 

man,  67,  69. 

Dramatic  imitation,  330 ;  games,  390,  392. 
Drill  in  adolescent  training,   118,  441;  at 

age  of  rivalry,  487. 


Earhart  on  how  to  study,  279. 

Ebert  on  training  of  memory,  302-303. 

Efficiency  as  aim  of  education,  i,  16—24; 
518-519;  523-524- 

Effort  as  induced  by  imitation,  336;  as 
related  to  play  and  work,  272,  408-411. 

Election,  function  of,  492. 

Elective  system  and  formal  discipline,  293 ; 
defects  of,  485;  reasons  for,  517-522. 

Elementary  education  in  Europe  and  the 
United  States,  484. 

Eliminative  selection  in  the  school,  482- 
485,489- 

Eliot  on  disciplinary  values,  293. 

Emotions,  training  of,  100-108;  and  ado- 
lescent culture,  125;  as  a  result  of  imi- 
tation, 332. 

Emperor  of  Germany  on  formal  discipline, 
289. 

Empirical  test  of  truth,  206,  214,  244,  340. 

Enlightenment  and  its  educational  aims, 
12-15. 

Epicurean  ethics,  509. 

Epictetus  and  academic  independence,  444. 

Epochs  in  childhood,  304-395. 

Equality  of  opportunity  and  state  educa- 
tion, 448,  463,  556-558. 

Erasmus  on  the  aim  of  education,  6-7. 


586 


Index 


Esoteric  beliefs,  122;  learning,  rise  of,  441, 

455-456;    learning,   value  of,   456-458; 

learning,  disappearance  of,  458. 
Estimates,  effect  of  training  on,  297-298. 
Ethics    transformed    from    utilitarian    to 

academic,   507-509;    and  utility,   525- 

526. 

Euglena,  196. 
Examination  conception  of  education,  478- 

485  ;  as  determining  social  heredity,  496. 
Executive  heads,  appointment  of,  470-472. 
Experience  and  ideas,  211. 
Experimental  subjects  in  secondary  schools, 

491-492. 
Experimentation    and    learning,    144-148; 

as  the  basis  of  educational  progress,  499. 
Expert  control  and  academic  freedom,  461- 

463- 
Exploitation  in  primitive  education,  126- 

131,  540;  and  control  of  sanctions,  348- 

349;    decline  of,  546;    in  democracies, 

547- 

Expressive  cries,  360. 
Ezra  and  effects  of  written  codes,  373. 


Faculties  in  struggle  with  chancellors,  449. 
Faculty  theory,  10-12,  15,  169-172;    and 

formal  discipline,  284-286;  Herbart  on, 

291. 

Family  and  education,  116,  122,  430-431. 
Fear,  control  of,  90-100,  174;  and  critical 

attitude,  211. 
Feeling  as  factor  in  learning,  86,  89,  94; 

physiological  basis  of,  91 ;    function  of, 

146-148,    154-155,    191-193 ;    types   of, 

194-198;  logic  of,  205-208;  as  guide  to 

action,  242-243. 
Felkin,  183. 
Fichte,  15. 

Fighting  instinct,  172,  178. 
Final  cause  and  evolution,  27-28,  526. 
Financial  support  of  schools,  adequacy  of, 

468. 

Fiske  on  meaning  of  infancy,  61-62. 
Flexibility,  education  for,  98,  136,  141-143, 

158-160,    251-282,    561-563;    evolution 

of,  32-47,  59-61,  70-71,  85-96,  114-115, 

139-163,  190-250. 
Form,  fondness  for,  289,  352. 
Formal  discipline,   283-317;    meaning  of, 

283;  historic  reasons  for,  288;  Herbart 


on,  291 ;  experimental  study  of,  293-304 ; 
common  observation  on,  294-295;  as 
general  and  specific  discipline,  305-307, 
310—315;  general  conclusion  on,  307- 
309;  application  of  conclusions  to  edu- 
cation, 309-316. 

Formal  steps,  264-265. 

Fracker  on  training  memory,  302. 

Freedom  of  investigation,  451-452;  of 
teaching,  455-458 ;  of  school  in  determin- 
ing education,  458-467. 

Froebel  on  aim  of  education,  13-14,  20; 
on  recapitulation,  164-165;  on  use  of 
play,  404-406. 

Function,  meaning  of,  89-90. 

Functions,  evolution  of,  41-47  ;  of  society, 
108;  that  deal  with  the  variable,  40. 


Galton  on  curve  of  distribution,  79;    on 

regression  to  type,  114. 
Games  of  childhood,  388-396;    individual, 

389-390;   social,  391-393;   in  history  of 

education,  396-405. 

Geddes  on  function  of  reproduction,  48-49. 
General  discipline,  305,  314-315. 
Geography  and  concentration,  186. 
Giddings  on  consciousness  of  kind,  124. 
Greece,  academic  independence  of,  444. 
Greek  education,  130;   use  of  play,  400. 
Groos    on    organic    selection,    80-8 1 ;     on 

theory  of  play,  384,  416. 
Growth,  conditions  of,  29 ;  inertia  of,  31, 

41-42,    47,    49,    52,    83,    153,    353-3545 

continuous    and    discontinuous,    48-50, 

72-73- 

Guarino  on  liberal  education,  4-5. 
Gumplowicz  on  origin  of  castes,  118. 
Gymnasiums  in  modern  education,  421. 

H 

Habit,  formation  of,  43-44,  00-95 ;  effects 
of,  43,  56 ;  as  inhibiting  instinctive  acts, 
101-108;  and  imitation,  113,  323,  342- 
343>  357 ;  in  relation  to  readjustment, 
144, 152-162,  211,  214-218,  227-229,  268- 
269 ;  and  perception,  205 ;  logic  of,  206 ; 
as  related  to  attitudes,  271. 

Habituation,  perversion  by,  177;  arrested 
development  by,  179. 

Hall  on  complete  recapitulation,  174-182, 
259- 


Index 


58? 


Hamlet  and  inhibition,  213. 

Hebrew  tradition  and  language,  373. 

Hegel  on  aim  of  education,  15. 

Henmon  on  reaction  time  and  sensitivity, 
45- 

Herbart  on  aim  of  education,  14-15;  on 
control  of  emotion,  106-107  I  on  recapit- 
ulation, 165,  183;  on  struggle  of  ideas, 
200;  on  mind  as  experience,  212;  on 
formal  discipline,  289-292 ;  on  forming 
character,  374 ;  on  disadvantage  of  state 
education,  498. 

Herbartians  on  method  of  teaching,  264- 
265. 

Herder  on  recapitulation,  183. 

Heterogenesis,  82-83. 

Higher  education,  function  of,  491 

High  school,  function  of,  480-400. 

Hobhouse  on  learning  by  imitation,  112, 
328,  330;  on  the  basis  of  learning,  139- 
140,  159 ;  on  accustoming,  192. 

Hugo  of  St.  Victor  on  aim  of  education, 
2-3,  7- 

Humanism,  4-7,  9 ;  and  spiritualism,  435- 
430. 

Humanities  and  culture  epoch  theory,  184- 
189;  in  struggle  with  science,  434-436; 
in  relation  to  social  control,  436-437 ; 
rise  of  the  study  of,  446. 

Huxley  on  discipline  through  science,  292. 


Ideal  education,  135;  and  the  differentia- 
tion of  the  school,  433. 

Ideals  of  education,  1-24;  to  be  deter- 
mined by  the  school,  520-522. 

Ideas,  rise  of  independent,  204 ;  evolution 
of,  215-235 ;  of  Plato,  507-508. 

Ideational  readjustment,  147,  198-199; 
forms  of,  235-236 ;  and  transfer  of  prac- 
tice, 308-309;  and  imitation,  330;  and 
language,  363-366. 

Identical  elements,  298,  303-304 ;  as  form 
or  content,  303-304. 

Illuminati  and  esoteric  learning,  537. 

Imagery  as  aid  to  memory,  302—303. 

Imagination  and  readjustment,  209;  rise 
of,  221-225;  variation  in,  223-225; 
culture  of,  258 ;  and  imitation,  333 ;  and 
language,  363 ;  in  the  game,  300,  392. 

Imitation  and  social  heredity,  111-115, 
124-125,  159;  in  general,  318-358;  as 


selective,  319-321,  3*4:  M  adding  to 
resources,  321-322;  definition  of,  323; 
instinctive,  323-324,  327,  332;  learning 
by,  324-327;  voluntary  and  involun- 
tary, 328-329 ;  among  animals,  112, 328- 
329;  and  ideational  readjustment,  330, 
334-335;  psychical  effects  of,  331-341; 
and  consciousness  of  self  and  others,  335- 
341 ;  and  social  norms,  330-341 ;  spread 
and  conflict  of,  342-351 ;  of  the  foreign, 
351-357 ;  in  the  modern  school,  357-358. 

Imitative  association,  324-325,  357-358. 

Imperfect  instinctive  acts  and  instincts, 
66-71,  80-82. 

Indian  education,  131. 

Inductive  method,  264. 

Industry,  general  school  of,  489. 

Inertia  of  growth,  31,  83,  153,  353-354. 

Infancy,  function  of,  59,  61-71,  179-181; 
and  social  heredity,  96-97 ;  in  relation  to 
recapitulation,  166-167 ;  and  play,  383. 

Infanticide  as  race  policy,  480—481. 

Infusoria,  85. 

Inhibition  of  hereditary  impulses,  102-103, 
105-106;  function  of,  151-152. 

Initiatory  rites,  118-119. 

Instinctive  acts,  93-04,  oo,  108;  dis- 
tinguished from  instincts,  65. 

Instincts,  15, 1 8,  86,  88-89, 94,  99, 100-108, 
140;  social,  no;  teaching,  in,  114; 
and  intelligence,  141-143,  150-151 ; 
in  recapitulation,  172-182;  transitory, 
173;  as  controlling  imitation,  343;  in- 
volved in  language,  363;  of  play,  383- 
385,  389,  391;  and  academic  interest, 
415-416. 

Institutions,  definition  of,  429;  as  educa- 
tional, 429-433. 

Instruction  in  traditions,  etc.,  121-124. 

Intension,  250-260. 

Intensive  study,  315. 

Interest  as  aim  of  education,  14-15;  *» 
involved  in  learning,  554-555.  265,  271 ; 
immediate  and  mediate,  272-273;  in 
persons,  335  ;  shown  in  games,  380-394 ; 
and  use  of  play  in  education,  402-403. 

Interference  of  habits,  297,  209,  306-308. 

Irradiation  of  feeling,  195-197. 


James  on  psychologist's  fallacy,   28;    on 
number  of  instincts,  67 ;  on  inhibition  of 


588 


Index 


instincts  by  habits,  70,  104;  on  inheri- 
tance of  acquired  characters,  75 ;  on 
emotion,  100,  125,  332  ;  on  relation  of  con- 
sciousness and  movement,  149;  on  cul- 
ture of  instincts,  173 ;  on  reserve  energy, 
214;  on  association,  227-228,  262;  on 
training  the  memory,  301-302;  on  the 
social  me,  337. 

Japanese  and  imitation,  353. 

Jefferson  on  education  in  a  democracy,  551. 

Jelly  fish  and  alternation  of  generations,  57. 

Jennings  on  selective  power  in  paramoe- 
cium,  28;  on  learning  among  low  or- 
ganisms, 85 ;  on  the  action  system,  86, 
141 ;  on  the  behavior  of  the  stentor,  87  ; 
on  reflex  action,  93,  159;  on  accustom- 
ing, 192 ;  on  physiological  resolution, 
105-196. 

Jesuits  and  education  by  play,  403. 

Job  and  academic  religion,  505,  509. 

Jordan  on  selective  effects  of  war,  132. 

Judd  on  conditions  of  feeling,  197 ;  on  in- 
terference of  habits,  299-300;  on  effect 
of  language  on  discrimination,  364. 

Judgment,  function  of,  148,  199-200,  205— 
208,  210,  224-225;  factors  in,  212-213, 
235;  evolution  of,  235-250;  and  imita- 
tion, 345,  357 ;  and  games  of  rivalry, 
393-395 ;  and  freedom  of  teaching,  458. 


Kant  as  introducing  content  theory  of 
mind,  289-291. 

Katabolic  crisis  and  reproduction,  49-51. 

Katabolism  as  condition  of  feeling,  194- 
197. 

Kellogg  on  causes  of  variation,  79. 

Kidd  on  social  value  of  religion,  119. 

Kindergarten  and  play,  403—404,  412. 

Kirkpatrick  on  walking  as  a  perfect  instinc- 
tive act,  66 ;  on  dramatic  imitation,  330. 

Knightly  education  and  play,  400-402 ; 
and  discipline,  439. 


Laboratory  work,  277-278. 

Ladislas,  education  of,  5. 

Laissez  faire  as  method  of  education,  13 ; 
and  the  elective  system,  520 ;  and  educa- 
tion in  a  democracy,  450-464,  550-552, 
555- 


Lamb  on  tyranny  of  custom,  169. 

Lange  on  emotions,  100,  125,  332. 

Lange,  Karl,  on  culture  epoch  theory,  187— 
1 88. 

Language  in  general,  358-382 ;  the  school 
and  written,  122;  and  memory,  231; 
imitation  and  written,  322;  develop- 
ment of  thought  and  oral,  358-368;  as 
selective,  367 ;  social  memory  and 
written,  368-375 ;  conservative  effects 
of,  368-369,  372-373 ;  progressive  effect 
of,  373-374;  democratic  effect  of,  371- 
372 ;  education  in,  375-381. 

Latin  and  formal  discipline,  283,  288- 
289. 

Laurie  on  liberal  education,  535. 

Law  of  dynamogenesis,  149. 

Lay  boards  in  control  of  education,  460- 
476. 

Lazarus  on  play,  384. 

Leadership,  instinct  of,  124,  126,  180. 

Learned  ideal  in  education,  7-9, 15,  401. 

Learned  class  as  priesthood,  122,  441 ;  and 
social  control,  442-445 ;  and  power  of 
memory,  369-372;  and  accumulation  of 
learning,  515-516. 

Learning,  conditions  of,  61-70,  85-96,  145- 
149;  meaning  of,  100-194;  by  trial  and 
error,  190-208,  209;  by  ideas,  199;  con- 
scioui,  208-250 ;  factors  in  conscious, 
208-215;  by  imitation,  319-320,  324- 
327- 

Le  Conte  on  function  of  reproduction,  48. 

Lecture,  method  of,  274. 

Leisure  as  a  basis  of  progress,  127;  play 
and  education  for,  400-411,  424-425; 
occupations  of,  567-568 :  use  and  abuse 
of,  566-568 ;  rise  of,  566 ;  education  for, 
536-537,  566-569. 

Lessing  on  recapitulation,  164,  183. 

Letourneau  on  primitive  adolescent  culture, 
in,  117,  481. 

Levites  as  learned  caste,  441. 

Liberal  education  as  contrasted  with  vo- 
cational, 434-435,  437 ;  as  disciplinary, 
437-439;  in  the  United  States,  484; 
meaning  of,  535-536;  evolution  of, 
536-540. 

Life  cycles,  56-59. 

Life,  conformity  of  school  to,  265-266. 

Lincoln  on  democracy,  530. 

Literacy  as  demanded  by  Protestantism, 
446-447. 


Index 


589 


Liver  fluke  and  alternation  of  generations,  ' 

57-58. 
Localization    as    ideational    readjustment, 

202-204. 
Locke   on   aim  of   education,  10-1 1 ;    on 

mental  discipline,  289. 
Logic  of  habit  and  feeling,  205-206,  239; 

of  cognition,  206,  243-249. 
Logical  test  of  truth,  245-248. 
Lycurgus  as  imitator  of  the  foreign,  357. 

M 

Macaulay  and  power  of  memory,  295. 

Make-believe  and  play,  384,  387,  392. 

Malthus  and  law  of  population,  42. 

Mann,  Horace,  and  popular  civic  education, 
447.  S5I~552 ;  and  ideal  of  public  schools, 
464. 

Manual  training  as  discipline,  283. 

Marshall  on  recapitulation,  166-167. 

Materials  of  education,  434-439;  accu- 
mulation of  mental,  258-270. 

Mathematics  and  recapitulation,  185. 

Mathematical  problems,  276. 

Mating  instincts,  64,  103. 

M'Lennan  on  exogamy,  480. 

McMurry  on  type  subjects,  259,  266;  on 
deriving  concepts  from  the  concrete,  261 ; 
on  the  art  of  study,  270-280,  381. 

Medical  education,  rise  of,  446,  548. 

Medicine  as  art  of  controlling  wills,  543. 

Memorizing,  training  in,  301-305. 

Memory,  discipline  of,  n  ;  function  of,  147, 
156-157;  physical  basis  of,  147-148; 
development  of,  204;  as  the  basis  of 
selection,  219;  as  based  on  concepts, 
230-232 ;  as  evaluated  by  judgment, 
258,  338;  and  imitation,  323,  338,  343; 
and  language,  364-366,  368-375 ;  of  the 
will  and  language,  374. 

Mental  discipline  as  aim  of  education,  9-1 2, 
15-16,  20,  22.  (See  formal  discipline  and 
discipline.) 

Metamorphosis,  56,  58. 

Method  in  relating  concepts  to  the  concrete, 
264-266;  in  teaching  standards,  266- 
269;  in  cultivating  attitudes,  271-282. 

Meumann  on  training  memory,  302. 
Milton  on  aim  of  education,  7-8. 
Minot  on  inertia  of  growth,  43. 
Monotheism,  causes  of,  504. 
Monroe,  on  disciplinary  aim,  9-10,  289. 


Moral  culture  through  play,  418-419; 
function  of  the  school  in  regard  to,  476- 
477  ;  need  of,  553-554.  564-565- 

Morgan  on  organic  selection,  So. 

Motivation  of  school  work,  402-404,  407- 
417. 

Motor  adjustments  and  the  attitudes,  271. 

Movement,  function  of,  34 ;  conditions  of, 
34-35;  development  of  complexity  of, 
93-94;  and  consciousness,  149-150. 

Miiller  on  recapitulation,  163, 165. 

Miiller,  Max,  on  thought  and  language,  359. 

Miinsterberg  on  training  in  habits,  300- 
301,  307- 

N 

Nationalization   of   education,   causes  of, 

448-449 ;  reasons  for,  550. 
Natural  consequences,  punishment  by,  404. 
Natural  law,  rise  of  the  idea  of,  346,  348, 

544,  547-548. 

Natural  selection.     (See  selection.) 
Nature,  education  according  to,  13. 
Neatness,  training  in,  304-306,  310—312. 
Negative  education,  13-14,  274. 
Newton  and  the  law  of  inertia,  31. 
Nominalism,  358,  365. 


Oratory  as  independent  culture,  443-444. 
Ordeals  in  primitive  education,   117-118; 

and   disciplinary   education,   438;    and 

selection  of  leaders,  481. 
Originality  as  a  rational  attitude,  211,  256; 

cultivation  of,  270-274;  and  imitation. 

353;  and  play,  410-420. 
Orthogenesis,  82,  141 ;    in  culture  of  the 

reason,  253-254. 
Osborn  on  organic  selection,  80. 
Ostwald  on  accustoming,  192. 


Pansophy,  8-9,  22. 

Parasitism,  36. 

Parental  fosterage,  109-111. 

Parental  training,  111-114,  114-126. 

Parental  instinct,  176. 

Partial  recall,  228-229,  261-263. 

Paul  on  literalism,  373. 

Paulsen  on  disciplinary  education,  10. 

Pax  Romana,  355. 


590 


Index 


Perception  as  ideational  readjustment, 
200-208 ;  Kantian  theory  of,  300. 

Perceptual  readjustment,  198-208,  209, 
219-220,  238-239. 

Persian  education,  131 ;    and  play,  400. 

Persistent  imitation,  326-327,  328. 

Perversion  of  instincts,  176-178. 

Pestalozzi  on  aim  of  education,  13-14,  20. 

Phenomena  distinguished  from  noumena, 
507-508. 

Philosophy  as  independent  culture,  ^443- 
444 ;  of  Renaissance,  440 ;  rise  of  acade- 
mic, 505-508. 

Plato  on  aim  of  education,  3,  7 ;  as  separat- 
ing child  from  family,  463,  555 ;  on 
differentiating  selection,  481-482 ;  on 
the  academic  ideal,  502,  507 ;  on  the 
control  of  the  Good,  545. 

Platonism  and  Christianity,  444. 

Play,  383-426;  and  problems,  272-273; 
definition  of,  383,  386,  408-409 ;  child 
and  adult,  383-388;  theories  of,  383- 
385 ;  and  work,  386-388,  395-396,  405- 
407,  408-410,  418-420;  of  animals,  396- 
397 ;  of  primitive  men,  397 ;  and  religion, 
397-398;  control  of,  399,  404;  as  dis- 
appearing from  learned  education,  400- 
402 ;  as  returning  thereto,  402-403  ;  as 
a  school  motive,  407-417;  organization 
and  control  of,  418-426;  and  art,  511; 
in  democratic  education,  565;  need  of 
education  in,  567. 

Playgrounds,  421. 

Poetry  as  a  device  for  memorizing,  369. 

Practical  ideal  as  academic,  502,  529. 

Practical  men  and  their  attitude  toward  the 
academic,  513-514. 

Precocity,  danger  of,  175,  178-180. 

Prescription,  function  of,  491. 

Prestige  and  imitation,  344. 

Primitive  men  and  play,  397. 

Printing,  democratic  effect  of,  372. 

Private  education  and  conservatism,  460- 
461. 

Privileged  classes  as  just  in  government, 
544.  (See  castes.) 

Problems  and  the  cultivation  of  rational 
attitudes,  272-282. 

Process  as  related  to  product  in  education, 
255- 

Professional  man,  meaning  of,  538-539, 
541-542. 

Professional  education,  rise  of,  541. 


Protective  adaptations,  33,  51,  63. 

Protestantism  and  literacy,  446. 

Psychical  environment,  36-39;  and  imi- 
tation, 339;  and  language,  363. 

Psychological  relations,  260,  262-263. 

Psychologist's  fallacy,  28. 

Public  school,  English,  and  disciplinary 
education,  438;  and  play,  400. 

Purpose,  imitation  and  the  consciousness 
of,  336-337- 

Pythagoras  and  foreign  culture,  357. 


Race  adaptation,  72-73. 

Rational  education,  rise  of,  134-135 ;  pos- 
sibility of,  251 ;  and  the  differentiation 
of  the  school,  433. 

Rationality  and  imitation,  351,  357-358; 
and  language,  359-368. 

Rational  test  of  truth,  340. 

Ratzel  on  ability  of  various  races,  134. 

Ratzenhofer  on  rise  of  classes,  118. 

Realism  in  education,  9,  20 ;  and  humanism, 
436. 

Reason,  function  of,  40 ;  rise  of,  206 ;  de- 
scription of,  209,  249-250;  education  of, 
251-282;  training  of  and  formal  dis- 
cipline, 283-284,  308-309;  in  control  of 
sanctions,  348-350. 

Recapitulation,  definition  of,  143 ;  in  gen- 
eral, 163-189;  psycho-physiological, 
163-168,  169-182;  cultural,  163,  169, 
183-189;  necessity  of,  165-166;  ex- 
ceptions to,  166-169,  184-185;  accord- 
ing to  faculties,  170-173;  according  to 
instincts,  173-183;  desirability  of  com- 
plete, 174-182. 

Recapitulatory  education,  96-98;  as  con- 
trasted with  rational  education,  251. 

Recognition  as  ideational  readjustment, 
201-202. 

Recreation  theory  of  play,  384-385. 

Reflex  acts,  evolution  of,  93-94. 

Reformation  and  the  aim  of  education,  7. 

Rein  on  formal  steps,  264. 

Rejuvenation,  43,  51,  53-61,  63,  73,  no. 

Religion,  social  function  of,  119-121;  and 
play,  397-398 ;  transformed  from  practi- 
cal to  academic,  503-505. 

Religious  education,  function  of  the  school 
in  reference  to,  476-477 ;  absorption  of 
the  school  in,  445. 


Index 


591 


Renaissance  ideal  of  education,  4-7,  o-io, 
19,  168;  and  disciplinary  education, 
288 ;  and  imitation,  356 ;  and  liberal  cul- 
ture, 435,  446 ;  and  rise  of  science,  446 ; 
schools  and  state  and  private  support 
and  control,  449;  ideal  of  secondary 
education,  493 ;  on  scientific  method, 
547- 

Reproduction,  function  of,  48-61 . 

Resourcefulness,  209;  factors  in,  211-212. 

Resources,  accumulation  of  mental,  258- 
270. 

Ribot  on  irradiation  of  feelings,  196;  on 
creative  imagination,  223. 

Right,  rise  of  the  idea  of,  340-341,  340-350. 

Ritterakademien,  398. 

Rivalry  in  games,  390,  392-393;   age  of, 

394- 

Roman  education  and  discipline,  439. 

Romanes  on  consciousness  and  readjust- 
ment, 150. 

Romans  and  military  control,  441 ;  and 
study  of  law,  446. 

Roosevelt  and  critical  temper,  213;  and 
general  power  of  will,  295. 

Rosenkranz  on  training  versus  education, 
27 ;  on  development  of  the  faculties, 
170-171. 

Rousseau  on  the  aim  of  education,  13,  20; 
on  the  state  of  nature,  123 ;  on  recapitu- 
lation, 154,  174;  on  negative  education, 
274 ;  on  education  by  play,  403-404,  406, 
410. 

Royce  on  consciousness  and  readjustment, 
15°. 

Rudiger  on  training  in  neatness,  306. 


Sanctions,  345-35°. 

Schiller  on  theory  of  play,  384. 

Scholasticism  as  secular  learning,  446. 

School,  rise  of,  122,  370-371,  43°-4.i3 ; 
devotion  to  language  of,  375 ;  evolution 
of,  440-477  ;  differentiation  of,  440-451 ; 
independence  of,  451-467;  interde- 
pendence with  society  of,  468-477  ;  func- 
tion of,  478-501 ;  definition  of,  478 ; 
length  of  day  of,  423-424;  as  social 
center,  425-426. 

Science  and  recapitulation,  184-188;  and 
formal  discipline,  292-293;  rivalry  of 
pure  and  applied,  514-515- 


Scientific  and  historic  records,  370-381. 

Seasonal  changes,  adaptations  for,  31-33, 
50. 

Secondary  education  and  discipline,  10; 
function  of,  486-406,  560-561 ;  at  Re- 
naissance, 493 ;  school  in  Europe,  484 ; 
phases  of,  489 ;  as  preparatory  for  higher 
education,  494-496. 

Secret  societies,  tribal,  128-130. 

Secular  learning,  rise  of,  446-448. 

Segmentary  interconnections  in  nervous 
system,  67-71,  00-91. 

Selection,  natural,  48,  54,  76-83,  109,  112- 
113,  lao,  124,132-134,145,165,480,544; 
as  the  method  of  learning,  78 ;  kinds  of, 
79;  organic,  80-82;  of  social  heredity, 
133;  symbolic  individual,  146,  189, 191; 
kinds  of  in  conscious  learning,  209-210; 
and  originality,  216-219;  in  perceptual 
interpretation,  220-221 ;  as  shown  in  col- 
lege graduates,  287 ;  and  imitation,  320- 
321,  351;  of  the  imitative,  319,  328, 
352 ;  as  the  function  of  the  school,  478— 
480 ;  kinds  of,  by  the  school,  480,  483- 
484;  of  culture  materials,  516-522;  of 
educational  ideals,  524-525. 

Self,  concept  of,  231 ;  concept  of,  and 
language,  365,  368. 

Self-activity  in  culture  of  the  reason,  273- 
282. 

Self-consciousness  and  imitation,  335-34' • 

Self-realization  as  aim  of  education,  12-16, 
20;  meaning  of,  527-528. 

Sensation  as  symbolism,  34-35. 

Sentence  words,  361. 

Sex,  effects  of,  83. 

Silent  areas  in  the  brain,  232. 

Short  cuts  in  recapitulation,  168. 

Skeptic  ethics,  509. 

Slavery,  origin  and  function  of,  128,  120, 
130. 

Social  control  and  education,  124-136, 
education  in,  131-133.  43*.  45O.  536-539, 
541-548;  and  esoteric  teaching,  455- 
456;  and  grading  children,  480;  not 
regarded  as  a  vocation,  540-541. 

Social  culture  as  aim  of  education,  4-7,  « I 
through  play,  396,  404-405,  418-419; 
in  liberal  education,  564-565. 

Social  environments,  36-30.  4»- 

Social  heredity,  meaning  of,  97-08;  evo- 
lution of,  109-115.  iJ4.  M°.  133-134; 
in  individual  development,  142,  152;  in 


592 


Index 


recapitulation,  i68-i6g,  181 ;  and  imi- 
tation, 341 ;  and  language,  366-367  ;  the 
school  as  improving,  433 ;  as  determined 
by  the  school,  496-501 ;  as  determining 
advantages,  550,  558. 

Social  instincts,  36-39. 

Socialization  by  education,  116-122,  131- 
132;  by  imitation,  318-321,  332-341, 
345-348,  352-353;  by  play,  395,  397- 
398,  418-419. 

Social  me,  337~338. 

Social  pressure  in  the  school,  413-414. 

Socrates  and  generalization,  267 ;  and 
method  of  development,  274 ;  on  study  of 
science,  547. 

Solomon  on  conservation  of  energy  and  free 
will,  28. 

Solon  and  written  law,  372. 

Sophist  as  independent  of  the  governing 
class,  443,  453. 

Sparta  and  infanticide,  481. 

Spartan  education,  131 ;  use  of  play,  399 ; 
disciplinary  education,  441 ;  military 
education  of,  441,  458. 

Specialization,  rise  of,  498,  515. 

Specific  discipline,  305.  308-313. 

Spelling  matches,  403. 

Spencer  on  aim  of  education,  17 ;  on  repro- 
duction, 42 ;  on  consciousness  and  read- 
justment, 150;  on  science  and  discipline, 
292 ;  on  theory  of  play,  384 ;  on  laissez 
faire  in  education,  459-461,  499. 

Spiritual  culture  as  aim  of  education,  2-4, 
15, 19,  22;  environment,  18. 

Standards  in  judgment,  212,  214,  241-249; 
teaching  of  266-269 !  learned  by  imi- 
tation, 337-340. 

State  and  education,  430 ;  and  school  con- 
trol, 442-466. 

Stentor,  action  system  of,  86-87. 

Stoic  philosophy  and  Christianity,  444 ; 
ethics,  509. 

Study,  training  in,  274-282  ;  of  the  foreign, 
356-357- 

Stratton  on  unconscious  elements  in  per- 
ception, 204. 

Struggle  for  existence  of  subjects  and  cul- 
tures, 497. 

Substitution  in  fighting  instincts,  103. 

Sully  on  transference  of  feelings,  196. 

Superiority,  education  and  mental,  287. 

Superstition,  function  of,  120—121,  456. 

Surplus  energy  theory  of  play,  384-385. 


Sutherland  on  evolution  of  sympathy,  102 ; 

on  growth  of  parental  care,  no. 
Synapsis,  43,  91. 


Tarde  on  imitation,  318,  342,  352. 

Taste,  need  of  purifying,  569. 

Teleology  and  education,  i,  28 ;  study  of, 

151 ;  as  basis  of  practice,  545-547. 
Thompson  on  reproduction,  48. 
Thorndike  on  imitation  among  animals, 

112,  328;  on  learning  among  animals, 

154,  159;  on  transfer  of  practice,  294— 
296;    on    elimination    of    pupils  from 
school,  482,  489. 

Titchener  on  the  aggregate  idea,  249. 
Total  recall,  262-263. 
Training,  effect  of,  on  bilaterally  symmet- 
rical parts,  296-297. 
Transfer  of  practice,  296-309. 
Translation  as  a  problem  of  reason,  276-277. 
Travel  and  spread  of  culture,  356. 
Trial  and  error   learning,   144-147,   154- 

155.  190-208. 

Types  as  the  subject  matter  of  teaching, 
259,  264,  266. 

U 

Unearned  increments  opposed  by  educa- 
tion, 554-557- 

Uniform  environments,  32-33. 

University,  study  of  law  and  medicine  in 
mediaeval,  2,  446 ;  charter  as  a  source  of 
independence,  448-449;  of  Paris,  449; 
state,  464 ;  appointment  of  rector  in 
German,  470;  as  the  home  of  research, 
500-501. 

Utilitarianism  in  aim  of  education,  i,  16, 
18-24;  of  early  religion,  503;  of  early 
philosophy,  506;  of  early  ethics,  508; 
of  early  art,  510;  warfare  on,  509-510; 
lack  of  in  students,  531-533;  in  relation 
to  ideal  values,  523-533. 

Utility  as  a  school  motive,  414-415 ;  higher, 
527. 


Vacations,  rise  of,  566-567. 

Values,  knowledge  of,  241-249. 

Variability  and  education,  31-32,  37,  40, 
46-47;  sources  of,  31,  35,  37,  38;  peri- 
odic and  unperiodic,  54-56;  in  environ- 
ments, 32-41,  72-73,  81-82;  and  mental 


Index 


593 


power,  210,  223-225;  and  rationality, 
252 ;  control  of,  253-254. 

Variation,  cause  of,  74-75,  78-85,  153,  176, 
180-181 ;  in  social  heredity,  98, 134-135, 
142-143;  and  racial  progress,  144;  in 
recapitulation,  166-169;  from  imitation, 
339,  342,  344-345 ;  and  state  control  of 
schools,  458,  463;  and  selection  in 
values,  524-525. 

Verbalism,  9,  375-378. 

Verworn  on  seasonal  adaptations,  33. 

Vocation,  play  as  preparatory  for,  386,  395- 
396,  407;  as  related  to  the  avocation, 
386-388;  and  education,  431;  helping 
the  child  to  select,  485-486;  education 
for,  538-539. 

Vocational  instruction  as  contrasted  with 
liberal  studies,  434-435 ;  as  based  on 
science,  447  ;  as  higher  education,  491 ; 
given  in  secondary  schools,  494-495 ; 
evolution  of,  540-549;  need  of,  560-561. 

Volkmann  on  effects  of  training,  296. 

Voltaire  on  religion  and  social  control,  119. 

Voluntary  imitation,  328-329. 

Von  Baer  on  recapitulation,  161,  163. 


W 

Wants  as  related  to  growth,  28-31 ;    evo- 
lution of,  41-47 ;   as  factors  in  learning, 


86,  88-89,  09;  as  determined  by  the 
school,  521-522. 

War  as  an  agency  to  spread  culture, 
355- 

Washington  on  education  in  a  democracy, 
55i- 

Webster  on  primitive  adolescent  culture, 
117,  128,  129. 

Weismann  on  inheriting  acquired  charac- 
ters, 73 ;  on  effects  of  sex,  83. 

Winch  on  training  the  memory,  303. 

Wolf  on  mental  discipline,  10. 

Woodward  on  Erasmus  and  education,  6. 

Woodworth  on  transfer  of  practice,  297; 
on  imageless  thought,  365. 

Work  and  problems,  272-273;  as  distinct 
from  play,  386-388,  408-412;  educa- 
tional value  of,  395-396,  397,  400-401, 
409-412,  418-420. 


Youmans  on  mental  discipline,  288-289. 


Ziehen  on  irradiation  of  feelings,  196. 
Ziller  on  culture  epochs,  165,  183-186. 


2Q 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  FOR  TEACHERS 

Published  by  The  Macmillan  Company 


ADAMS,  JOHN.    Exposition  and  Illustration  in  Teaching. 

Cloth.    vtii+jjS  Pagrt. 

ARNOLD,  FELIX.  A  Text-book  of  School  and  Class  Management.  I.  Theory 
and  Practice.  Clotk.  tamo.  xxii+  fX)po.gtt.  Index.  li  15  ntt. 

II.  Administration  and  Hygiene.  Cloth,    xii  +  293  p»gtt.    1  1.  court. 

-  Attention  and  Interest.  Clotk.    via  +  rja  page  t.    %uoontt. 

BAGLEY,  WILLIAM  CHANDLER.  Classroom  Management  :  Its  Principles  and  Tech- 
nique. By  William  Chandler  Bagley,  Superintendent  of  the  Training  Department, 
State  Normal  School,  Oswego,  N.Y. 

Clotk.     tamo.     xvii  +  3Sapagtt.     $125  net. 

-  The  Educative  Process.  Cloth,    unto,    xix  +  338  pagti.    ins  met. 

BROWN,  JOHN  FRANKLIN.    The  American  High  School.    By  John  Franklin  Brown, 
Ph.D.  ,  formerly  Professor  in  Education  and  Inspector  of  High  Schools  for  th 
University  of  Iowa.  Cloth,    xii  +  f)8  pages.    tamo.    $r.tj  net. 

BUTLER,  NICHOLAS  MURRAY.  The  Meaning  of  Education,  and  Other  Essays  and 
Addresses.  By  Nicholas  Murray  Butler,  President  of  Columbia  University. 

Clot  A.     izmo.    x  it  +  230  pages.    %uoo  net. 

CHUBB,  PERCIVAL.  The  Teaching  of  English.  By  Percival  Chubb,  Principal  of 
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Cloth,    lamo.    xvii+jil  pages.    $1.00  net. 

COLLAR,  GEORGE,  AND  CROOK,  CHARLES  W.  School  Management  and  Methods 
Of  Instruction.  By  George  Collar  and  Charles  W.  Crook,  London. 

Clotk.    latno.    viii  +  336  pagei.    $r.oo*et. 

CRONSON,  BERNARD.  Methods  in  Elementary  School  Studies.  By  Bernard  Cron- 
son,  A.B.,  Ph.D.,  Principal  of  Public  School  No.  3,  Borough  of  Manhattan,  City  of 
New  York.  Cloth,  tamo.  ttrj  paget.  $l~ZJ  net. 

—  Pupil  Self  -Government.  Clotk.    ismo.    ix  +  10?  pagtt.    Ijqontt. 

CUBBERLEY.  Syllabus  of  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Education.  With  Selected 
Bibliographies  and  Suggested  Readings.  By  Ellwood  P.  Cubberley.  Second  Edition, 
revised  and  enlarged.  In  two  parts. 

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Complete  in  one  volume,  laJbo  net. 

DE  GARMO,  CHARLES.  Interest  and  Education.  By  Charles  De  Garmo,  Professor 
of  the  Science  and  Art  of  Education  in  Cornell  University. 

Clotk.    tamo,    jrvii+ajo  P*ge*.    %l.OO*tt. 


-  The  Principles  of  Secondary  Education. 

Vol.  /,  Studies.     Clotk.     tamo.  jrii+XjQ  p*gtt.    1/.2J  net. 

Vol  II,  Proftttes  of  Instruction.  xii+9OOp*gtt.    Ir.oo  net. 

Vol.  Ill,  Ethical  Training.  Now  reuay. 

DEXTER,  EDWIN  GRANT.    A  History  of  Education  in  the  United  States.    By 
Edwin  Grant  Dexter,  Professor  of  Education  in  the  University  of  Illinois. 

Cloth.    xxi  +  bb5P*g»*.    *•*• 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  FOR  TEACHERS  —  Continued 


BUTTON,  SAMUEL  T.  Social  Phases  of  Education  in  the  School  and  the  Home. 
By  Samuel  T.  Button,  Superintendent  of  the  Horace  Mann  Schools,  New  York. 

Cloth.     lamo.     ix  +  259  pages.     $1.25  net. 

BUTTON  &  SNEBBEN.  The  Administration  of  Public  Education  in  the  United 
States.  By  Samuel  Train  Button,  A.M.,  and  Bavid  Snedden,  Ph.B.  With  an 
Introduction  by  Nicholas  Murray  Butler,  Ph.B.,  LL.B. 

Cloth.     viii  +JQ5  pages.     Bibliography.     Index,     ismo.     $1.75  net. 


FITCH,  SIR  JOSHUA.     Educational  Aims  and  Methods.     Lectures  and  Addresses  by 
Sir  Joshua  Fitch,  late  Her  Majesty's  Inspector  of  Training  Colleges. 

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-  Lectures  on  Teaching.  Cloth,    x  Hi  +393  pages,    ibmo.    $1.00  net. 

FOGHT,  HAROLD  W.    The  American  Rural  School.     By  H.  W.  Foght,  Professor  of 
Education,  Midland  College.  Cloth,    xxii  +  sbb  pages.     $1.23  net. 


GANONG,  WILLIAM  F.  The  Teaching  Botanist.  By  William  F.  Ganong,  Ph.B., 
Smith  College.  Cloth,  I2tno.  Rewritten  ed.  xti+  444  pages.  $1.23  net. 

OILMAN,  MARY  L.  Seat  Work  and  Industrial  Occupations.  A  Practical  Course  for 
Primary  Grades.  By  Mary  L.  Gilman,  Principal  of  the  Clay  School,  Minneapolis, 
Minn.,  and  Elizabeth  L.  Williams,  Principal  of  the  Holmes  School,  Minneapolis, 
Minn.  Fully  illustrated.  Cloth.  141  pages.  Square  I2mo.  $.50  net. 

GRAVES,  FRANK  P.  A  History  of  Education  before  the  Middle  Ages.  By  Frank 
Pierrepont  Graves,  Ohio  State  University. 

Cloth.    320  pages.     Bibliography.    $1.10  net. 

HALLECK,  REUBEN  POST.  The  Education  of  the  Central  Nervous  System.  A 
Study  of  Foundations,  especially  of  Sensory  and  Motor  Training. 

Cloth.    I2mo.     xii  +  258  pages.     $7.00  net. 

HANUS,  PAUL  H.  A  Modern  School.  By  Paul  H.  Hanus,  Professor  of  the  History 
and  Art  of  Teaching  in  Harvard  University 

Cloth,     I2mo.     x  +  3ob  pages.    $i  25  net. 

-  Educational  Aims  and  Educational  Values.    By  Paul  H.  Hanus. 

Cloth,    izmo.    vii+  221  pages.    $1.00  net. 

HERBART,  JOHN  FREDERICK.  Outlines  Of  Educational  Doctrine.  By  John  Fred- 
erick Herbart.  Translated  by  Alex.  F.  Lange,  Associate  Professor  of  English  and 
Scandinavian  Philology  and  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  the  College  of  Letters,  Univer- 
sity of  California.  Annotated  by  Charles  Be  Garmo,  Professor  of  the  Science  and 
Art  of  Education,  Cornell  University. 

Cloth.     Large  I2nio.     xi+  334pages.     $I.SJ  net. 

HERRICK,  CHESSMAN  A.  The  Meaning  and  Practice  of  Commercial  Education. 
By  Cheesman  A.  Herrick,  Ph.B.,  Birector  of  School  of  Commerce,  Philadelphia 
Central  High  School.  Cloth,  xv  +  378  pages  .  I2mo.  $1.25  net. 

HORNE,  HERMAN  HARRELL.  The  Philosophy  of  Education.  By  Herman  Harrell 
Home,  Assistant  Professor  of  Philosophy  and  Pedagogy  in  Bartmouth  College. 

Cloth.     8vo.     xvii  +3Q5  pages.     $1.50  net. 

-  The  Psychological  Principles  of  Education.     By  Herman  Harrell  Home. 

Cloth,     izino.     xizi+  435  pages.     $1.75  net. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  FOR  TEACHERS  —  Continued 


HUEY,  EDMUND  B.    The  Psychology  and  Pedagogy  of  Reading.    By  ProfcMM 
Edmund  B.  Huey,  of  the  Western  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Cloth,    unto.    xvi  +  jto)  pagts.     $/^o  ntt. 

JONES,  OLIVE  M.,  LEARY,  ELEANOR  G.,  and  QUISH,  AGNES  E.   Teaching  Children 
to  Study.     The  Group  System  applied. 

Illustrated.     Cloth.    viii+  193  pages.    time. 


KILPATRICK,  VAN  EVRIE.    Departmental  Teaching  in  Elementary  Schools. 

Cloth,    tamo.    xni  +  130  fagts.     it>me.    iJto  ntt. 

KIRKPATRICK,  EDWIN  A     Fundamentals  of  Child  Study.     By  Professor  Edwin 
A.  Kirkpatrick,  Principal  of  State  Normal  School,  Fitchburg,  Mass. 

Cloth,    unto.     xxi+  384  pagts.    $1.33  tut. 


—  Genetic  Psychology.  Cloth,    xv+  373  pagts. 

LAURIE,  S.  S.    Institutes  of  Education. 

3d  td.     Cloth.    xii+  3Qt  pagts.    It  go  nit. 

MAJOR,  DAVID  R.  First  Steps  in  Mental  Growth.  A  Series  of  Studies  in  the  Psy- 
chology of  Infancy.  By  David  R.  Major,  Professor  of  Education  in  the  Ohio  State 
University.  Cloth.  xiv  +  3/10  pages,  tamo. 


THE    McMURRY   SERIES  Etch,  cloth,  I2mo. 

General  Method 

-  The  Elements  of  General  Method.    By  Charles  A.  McMurry. 

3^3  fag"      t40*ft. 

-  The  Method  of  the  Recitation.    By  Charles  A.  McMurry  and  Frank  M.  McMurry, 
Professor  of  the  Theory  and  Practice  of  Teaching,  Teachers  College,  Columbia  Uni- 
versity. xi~  313  pagts.     ^.qo  net. 

Special  Method.     By  Charles  A.  McMurry. 

—  Special  Method  in  Primary  Reading  and  Oral  Work  with  Stories. 

vii+rojfagts.  $.60  met. 

—  Special  Method  in  the  Reading  of  English  Classic*,     vf  +  254  pages.  $.73  art. 

-  Special  Method  in  Language  in  the  Eight  Grades.    r«V+  igy  pagts.  $.70  ntt. 

-  Special  Method  in  History.  vh'+  *)t  pagts.  $.75  ntt. 

-  Special  Method  in  Arithmetic.  vii+  225  pagts.  $.70  ntt. 

-  Special  Method  in  Geography.  xi  +  arj  pagtt.  $.70  ntt. 

—  Special  Method  in  Elementary  Science.  ix  +  175  pagts.    %.j$  ntt. 

-  Nature  Study  Lessons  for  Primary  Grades.    By  Mrs.  Lida  B.  McMurry,  with 
an  Introduction  by  Charles  A.  McMurry.  JTI+  t()l  Pagts.     $.t»net. 

Course  of  Study  in  the  Eight  Grades. 

Vol.  I.     Grades  I  to  IV.         vii+  336  Pagts.    t.7S  *ft- 
Vol.11.     Gradts  V  to  VIII.    v  +  3lt>  pagts.    ^.75  ntt. 

MONROE,  PAUL.  A  Brief  Course  in  the  History  of  Education.  By  Pmul  Monroe, 
Ph.D.,  Professor  in  the  History  of  Education,  Teachers  College,  Columbia  Univer- 
sity. Cloth.  Svo.  xviii'r40Q  Pagts.  t/.2J  ntt. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  FOR  TEACHERS  —  Continued 


MONROE,  PAUL.    A  Text-book  in  the  History  of  Education. 

Cloth,     xxiii  +  277  pages,    I2mo.     $,i.qo  net. 

A  Source  Book  of  the  History  of  Education.     For  the  Greek  and  Roman  Period. 

Cloth.    x£ii+ 515  pages.     8vo.    $2.25  net. 

O'SHEA,  M.  V.  Dynamic  Factors  in  Education.  By  M.  V.  O'Shea,  Professor  o{ 
the  Science  and  Art  of  Education,  University  of  Wisconsin. 

Cloth,     izino.     xiii+ 320  pages.     $1.25  net. 

Linguistic  Development  and  Education. 

Cloth,     I2mo.     xvii->r  343  pages.     $1.25  net. 

PARK,  JOSEPH  C.  Educational  Woodworking  for  Home  and  School.  By  Joseph  C. 
Park,  State  Normal  and  Training  School,  Oswego,  N.Y. 

Cloth.     I2mo.     xiii+ 210  pages,  illus.     $i.oOnet. 

PERRY,  ARTHUR  C.  The  Management  of  a  City  School.  By  Arthur  C.  Perry,  Jr., 
Ph.D.,  Principal  of  Public  School,  No.  85,  Brooklyn,  N.Y. 

Cloth.    I2tno.     viii'+ 350  pages.    $1.25  net. 

ROWE,  STUART  H.  The  Physical  Nature  of  the  Child.  By  Dr.  Stuart  H.  Rowe, 
Professor  of  Psychology  and  the  History  of  Education,  Training  School  for  Teach- 
ers, Brooklyn,  N.Y.  Cloth,  jzmo.  vi+ 211  pages.  $.qo  net. 

ROYCE,  JOSIAH.  Outlines  Of  Psychology.  An  Elementary  Treatise  with  Some  Prac- 
tical Applications.  By  Josiah  Royce,  Professor  of  the  History  of  Philosophy  in 
Harvard  University.  Cloth.  I2mo.  xxvti  +  392  pages.  $7.90  net. 

SHAW,  EDWARD  R.     School  Hygiene.     By  the  late  Edward  R.  Shaw. 

Cloth.     vii+ 255  pages.     I2mo.     $I.OO  net. 

SHURTER,  EDWIN  DuBois.  The  Rhetoric  of  Oratory.  By  the  Associate  Professor 
of  Public  Speaking  in  the  University  of  Texas. 

Cloth.    323  pages.     I2mo.    $1.10  net. 

SMITH,  DAVID  E.  The  Teaching  of  Elementary  Mathematics.  By  David  E.  Smith, 
Professor  of  Mathematics,  Teachers  College,  Columbia  University. 

Cloth,    xv  +  312  pages.    I2mo.    $1.00  net. 

SNEDDEN  AND  ALLEN.  School  Reports  and  School  Efficiency.  By  David  S. 
Snedden,  Ph.D.,  and  William  H.  Allen,  Ph.D.  For  the  New  York  Committee  on 
Physical  Welfare  of  School  Children.  doth.  I2mo.  xi+ 183  pages.  $1.30  net. 

VANDEWALKER,  NINA  C.  The  Kindergarten  in  American  Education.  By  Nina 
C.  Vandewalker,  Director  of  Kindergarten  Training  Department,  Milwaukee  State 
Normal  School.  Cloth.  xiii+ 274.  pages.  Portr.,  index,  I2mo.  $1.25  net. 

WARNER,  FRANCIS.  The  Study  of  Children  and  Their  School  Training.  By 
Francis  Warner.  Cloth,  xix  +  264  pages.  I2tno.  $1.00  net. 

WINTERBURN  AND  BARR.  Methods  in  Teaching.  Being  the  Stockton  Methods 
in  Elementary  Schools.  By  Mrs.  Rosa  V.  Winterburn,  of  Los  Angeles,  and 
James  A.  Barr,  Superintendent  of  Schools  at  Stockton.  Cal. 

Cloth.     xii+ 355  pages,    izmo.    $r.2j  net. 


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